Keeping Faith
by Chereche
Summary: AU: Season 2 Blaine quickly finds himself engrossed in the mystery surrounded Kurt Hummel, Dalton's newest transfer. What had brought him here? What it in any way related to his condition? But most importantly, was there any way for Blaine to help the boy he was quickly becoming enarmoured with?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine.

A/N: This story is set loosely in Season 2, however Kurt is a sophomore. Blaine is also a year older than him and thus a Junior.

* * *

It wasn't exactly unusual to see a person out of the trademark uniform on the compound of Dalton Academy, especially early on a Monday morning. After all, a good portion of the student body took advantage of the weekends to go back home, and of course, there were a couple of day students at the institute, although, given the fact that the school was a bit of a distance away from a town in any direction, the non-boarders amounted to about five percent of the student population and were usually composed of new freshmen too nervous to live away from home. It usually took only a semester but sometimes the entire school year to convince them that they were better off boarding, and then, the cycle began again.

So yes, it wasn't exactly strange to see someone out of the Dalton Academy uniform, but when that person was taller than six feet and wore a red and white jacket boldly emblazoned with the name of a different high school, persons tended to do a double take. Blaine Anderson was one of those persons.

It was barely seven in the morning, an extremely early time for a boarder to be up, but since they had a full schedule that day, Blaine and his friends usually took breakfast early so they could have a bit of relaxation before the hustle of their classes began. And that was exactly where he had been going, books in hand, heading to one of the recreational rooms that every building possessed before his attention was caught by the odd jacket. He stopped, and moved closer to the floor to ceiling window for a better look. And he was not the only one. Students milling about the grounds all paused or stared at the giant teenager as he slowly ambled up the pathway, one arm slung across a significantly smaller boy (actually in the uniform), who was tucked tightly into his side. The boy didn't even have a bag on him, but a glance upwards showed that the jock (for everything about his posture screamed it) had a bag casually slung over his shoulder. The teenager's full attention seemed to be on the person beside him, and after a moment, Blaine focussed on the Dalton student, trying to discern, even from the distance, who the boy was.

He jumped a bit when Nick whistled beside him, following his gaze out the window. "Who's the giant?"

"I'm more interested in the guy with him," Blaine murmured, even as Wes and David appeared around him as well, curious about what had distracted him.

"He's a brave one," Wes stated after a moment, as the giant bent his head to rub his cheek against the top of the smaller boy's head, laughing when he received a smack, "having his boyfriend walk him to class like this."

"Plus he's in the wrong uniform," Nick added.

Dalton's dress code allowed, within reason, for modifications to the official school uniform. Persons could opt out of the trademark blue blazer in favour of waist coats or even sleeveless, V necked sweaters. However, every last student was expected to don the full uniform on the first day of the week. The boy had ditched the blazer, and didn't even have on a tie. What was he playing at?

Blaine's eyes narrowed as the pair got a bit closer. "Does anyone know who he is?"

"Planning to go all prefect on him?" David teased, even as Nick answered, "I've never seen him before."

"Neither have I," Blaine returned, and that was saying something. Blaine prided himself on the fact that he knew every last student at the Academy, if only by face, if not name. He was just one of those persons who had to offer a friendly word to _everyone_, and all of the students indulged him in it, especially given his star status within the school.

"He may be new then," Wes suggested, his words seemingly confirmed as the smaller teenager turned away from his companion to look around him with wonder. Every student bore that expression on their face at one point or another, but given that it was February, the novelty of the ground's beauty should have worn off for all but a new student by now. That in itself was strange. He could understand someone transferring in January, at the start of the new term, but in the third week of February? That was weird on so many levels.

"His balance is off," Blaine said, his eyes drifting down the expanse of his body.

His friends glanced at him for a moment before scanning the unknown student. Having experience with dancing thanks to the glee club, within moments, they all noticed it. Although the boy was leaning heavily on his companion as he walked, there was a slight awkwardness to his movement, as if he was not entirely certain of where his centre of gravity was. A part of Blaine snidely noted that he would be fine if he would not allow the giant to grip him quite so tightly, but the more logical side of him wondered if, given the way the taller teenager was leaning almost imperceptibly himself, he was not compensating for the boy's seeming inefficiency. Blaine huffed, deciding that the boy was one of those clumsy ones who needed to be guided for their own safety – much like Jeff, who apparently had not yet noticed that his friends were not with him if his absence was anything to go by. But really, did the boyfriend have to hold on so tightly?

The pair eventually came close enough to the building that the watching Warblers would easily be spotted if they looked up. Nevertheless, Blaine was certain that the pair was fully engrossed in their little chitchat, although, on closer inspection, he saw a small but noticeable frown on the Dalton student's face as he nodded in annoyance at whatever was being said to him. Obviously he was being warned off about getting to close to others, he thought. Jocks like him were notoriously overprotective. It made him wonder why on earth the smaller one had chosen to come here, to an all-boy's school of all places. Was it some silly game to garner his boyfriend's jealousy?

Finally they came to a stop, almost directly under the foyer. Thankfully, the giant had not decided to walk him straight up the stairs as well, otherwise Blaine would not have gotten the chance to observe their goodbye, although, why was he so curious about it? He dismissed that absent thought immediately, if the pair were brazen enough to come all this way together, they had to expect that they would be watched.

Their faces were blocked from his direct view now, but he clearly made out the way the jock's hand rose to gently cuff the other boy's face in a way he assumed was supposed to be endearing. Beside him, Wes made an "aww" sound as he reached out and gently looped the messenger bag around his boyfriend, going so far as to situate it properly while the Dalton boy stood there passively. Seconds later, Blaine saw what he had expected...or maybe not. Given the amount of affection that had passed between them, he had fully expected to see the smaller teenager be pulled up into a kiss. Instead, the jock bent down and carefully wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, the latter tiptoeing slightly to wrap an arm around his shoulder. Blaine's eyebrow quirked at that, especially when they had to break away suddenly to prevent the bag from slipping off him entirely. The jock looked concerned as he straightened it, while the latter waved a hand at him.

They chatted for a moment later, before the Dalton boy started shoving lightly against his chest with his left hand, before pointing in the direction of the parking lot. His meaning was clear enough. The jacket read "McKinley High" followed by a few words that he could not make out from his present position. However, he knew a bit about the school; they had started a glee club the previous year, although the Warblers had yet to secure any footage of their performances. That school was over an hour away from here, and given the time, and the amount of traffic that would surely be about on the main roads, the jock would have to hurry if he didn't want a tardy. But then again, he noted, jocks like him rarely got into serious trouble. He'd probably be able to drop his boyfriend off like this every day without a concern for his academic record. And he would probably take advantage of that. It was guys like him that made Blaine grateful more than ever that he was in Dalton now, where everyone respected each other and the rules. Someone would have to explain that to the new kid if he made this a habit. He could more than afford to have his overgrown boy toy drop him off at the parking lot instead of making this grand show.

It was aggravating.

The jock was walking off now, his steps considerably quicker now without his companion pressed against his side. Blaine dismissed him immediately to focus on the boy still standing there, a hand gripping the strap of his bag. All of Blaine's thoughts left him immediately. The boy's face...his emotions were plain to read on it, and what he saw startled him. The boy's face was drawn with concern, and a deeper emotion that Blaine could not quite read. He looked as if he wanted to call out to the jock, to come back to his side, and he bit down on his lip in a way that had to be painful. The expression briefly cleared when the jock paused and look back, as if sensing something wrong, but by the time he did that a broad, but obviously fake smile plastered itself across the Dalton boy's face until the jock turned around again. The new kid stood there until the jock was fully out of sight before turning and walking beyond Blaine's view.

With nothing more to see, Blaine allowed Wes to tug him away, only half hearing what his friends were now talking about, buy vaguely noting David was questioning just why they had stood there so long, with Nick answering that it was because of Blaine. He gave a non-distinct response at that, his mind still dwelling on what he had saw, and more importantly why, despite all of his dark thoughts earlier, he could not get the image of the boy's face out of his mind.

* * *

The new kid was the topic of the day at the Academy. From those who had seen his morning walk with the jock, to the fact that he was out of uniform and yet not a single teacher said a thing to him about it, to those who had had morning classes with him, by lunchtime, every Dalton student knew of him and were glancing around the dining hall for a sign of him. Blaine did not contribute anything to the conversation, as he settled at a table alongside several other Warblers. He wasn't one to gossip about others, but he did listen. The new kid was quickly making his way into infamy, he decided. All of the teachers seemed to know him personally, and the math teacher, who abhorred the mere sight of technology, had not uttered a word when the boy had pulled out some sort of word processor alongside his calculator and proceeded to use it for the duration of the class. Blaine's curiosity was piqued at that; perhaps the new kid was a relative of one of the higher ups in the school. It would explain why he was known to them and was seemingly being given leeway. But then again, that didn't really make sense. His uncle was on Dalton's school board, and so Blaine was rather well acquainted with the relations of Dalton's most prominent persons and he was certain that he had never seen the new kid before.

"What year is he in anyway?" a sophomore further along the table asked. "I mean, he was in Maths with me, but Justin had him for Chemistry, so maybe he's a Junior?"

"He was in French with me," a senior boy added, "and he put half of us to shame by the end of the class."

"A mixed schedule isn't _that_ strange," Wes murmured beside him, and Blaine nodded.

He, alongside his friends, had a combination of classes. Dalton was flexible that way. If you knew enough for a level, you could test out of the class, with credit, and get placed into a higher one. Given that no one claimed to have had him in a freshman class so far, Blaine was certain he could eliminate that as an option at the very least. And since it was rarer for a person to be in a class lower than their level, Blaine was prone to assume that the new kid was a sophomore, an extremely apt one at that if he had qualified for a senior class. If that was the case, perhaps he would end up in a class with him?

And surprisingly, that turned out to be the case.

The lunch hour came and went, and soon enough, he was settled into his usual seat in Literature, leaning forward over his desk so that he could have a whispered conversation with Nick and David. It was Nick who first noticed that Mr. Kentwood had not yet arrived, even though the bell had gone off five minutes ago. That in itself was strange. It was a rare occasion when a teacher was late for class, and one would definitely not expect it from Mr. Kentwood, one of the sternest teachers at the institute. Something had to have happened to the man, Blaine decided, if he was bordering on seven minutes late. A next minute passed before the classroom door opened, and an abrupt silence settled over the room as the man walked in, alongside the new kid. What was most surprising was the fact that the man had a small smile on his face as he spoke to him, although it faded into his normal stern demeanour when he reached his desk.

"I apologise for the delay gentlemen," he said without preamble, "there was an administrative matter that I had to handle that went a bit over the lunch hour. As you can see," he continued, gesturing to the new kid who was awkwardly standing there, clutching at the strap of his bag tightly, "We finally have Kurt Hummel among us. I trust that you will make him feel welcomed. Kurt? Why don't you settle in over there?"

The boy nodded, and quickly shuffled over to a desk in the far corner of the room, next to a window.

Most of the boys followed his movement, but Blaine's attention was riveted by the rather odd wording of the teacher's statement. What on earth had he meant by "finally" he wondered? He did not have much time to contemplate though, for, as if determined to compensate for the lost time, the man pulled out a marker and dove headfirst into the day's lesson. Halfway through the class though, Blaine found his gaze drifting to the left where the new kid – Kurt Hummel, he mentally amended – was seated. His eyebrows raised a fraction as he saw for himself the validity of some of the gossip exchanged over lunch. There really was some sort of device on the boy's desk, and occasionally, he tapped something into it with his left hand. Was there a reason for it, Blaine wondered before redirecting his attention to the teacher. Eventually the man assigned them a bit of in-class reading to do regarding their current novel, before moving to where Hummel was. More than one person blatantly stared as he crouched down beside his desk, having a whispered conversation with him. Then, their teacher dipped down into the boy's bag, retrieved something that Blaine identified as a Kindle, before handing it to the boy who gave him a small smile in return.

"I don't hear pages turning gentlemen," he said, without looking up, and guiltily, Blaine refocused on his own reading, even though his mind constantly replayed the scenario.

Between his efforts to actually follow the assigned reading while still contemplating on the strange occurrences surrounding the new kid, the rest of the class flew by. Unlike his friends, Blaine actually took the time to store away his belongings neatly. Yes, it usually meant that he was among the last to leave, but this time, it actually allowed him to hear Mr. Kentwood state that he would reassign him to a seat on the right during the next lesson. With nothing left to do that would not make it obvious that he was eavesdropping, Blaine left the classroom, deciding that he simply had to unravel the mystery that was Kurt Hummel.

* * *

By Tuesday afternoon, the novelty of the new kid had mostly worn off. As it turned out, Kurt was in three of his classes so far, which gave him copious amounts of time to discreetly observe him and fail to truly figure out why all of the teachers were treating him so...differently. Although, he amended, Mr. Kentwood had treated him like everyone else after that first class, although he did keep his promise and switched him to a seat on the right of the classroom, once more by a wall. He had even posed a question to him, and Blaine had found himself mesmerised by the soft yet angelic tone that erupted from the boy's mouth. It was only then that he had realised that he had never heard him speak before, and truly, even though it had only been two days, he had never seen him interact with anyone.

But then Wednesday came, and Kurt did not show up for class. And, as far as he had heard, not a single teacher seemed at all perturbed by that fact. Wednesday blended into Thursday and then Friday, but Kurt still did not turn up. By the second day of absence speculation had been rife that he had transferred back out of the school (with Blaine wondering why he felt mild disappointment at that fact). But the weekend passed by, and Monday morning, with a strange sense of déjà vu, Blaine watched as Kurt slowly made his way up the pathway, the giant once more by his side, although this time, he had only a loose hold around his shoulders. Their goodbye was briefer this time, though it still bothered Blaine the length of time the pair embraced. The angle was slightly different though, and Blaine found his breath hitching abruptly as a startling realisation hit him. Hummel had one arm wrapped around the jock like before, but this time, Blaine could clearly see his right side. His other arm – the one not around the jock - hung limply by his side, and looking closer at it, Blaine was certain that that limpness was not natural.

Everything clicked into place then.

The jock always carried his bag.

His walk was slightly off balanced.

He never wrote but relied on a device to type on.

He only used a Kindle in the classroom – never an actual textbook.

His book bag, although clearly designer, had Velcro fasteners rather than zippers and snaps.

He never wore the complete uniform.

None of his classes (so far) involved any manual labour.

He always had to be seated in a position that allowed him free movement of his left arm.

The answer was obvious. Hummel's right arm was paralysed. A feeling of unease settled in Blaine's stomach a moment later. His instincts were telling him that Hummel was not born that way, which begged the question, just how had the teenager lost the use of his right arm?


	2. Chapter 2

Although Blaine counted himself as being the first to notice, by the end of the second week of school (of which Hummel had only shown up for three days), it was a widely known fact that Kurt's right arm was paralysed. Persons had come to that conclusion by different means. A few, like him, simply deduced it by adding up all the clues together, but there were a few more _disturbing_ stories. Jeff had tripped on his way to his seat in Government, and, in attempting to grip onto a desk to stabilise himself, he had grabbed Kurt's right arm. According to Jeff, Kurt had not even blinked at that, his attention firmly remaining on the e-reader in front of him. He'd actually only looked up at Jeff's apology, and had paled significantly when he saw that he was being touched before brushing him off. His words to him had been far from nice, but both Blaine and Jeff agreed that Kurt had probably been upset about being outed that way. Another story came from a sophomore who noticed that Kurt always physically lifted and arranged his arm. There was also the fact that he always wore a glove on that hand. Nick had pointed out that that sort of glove was only used to protect from injury. It would make sense then for him to wear one. If he really was paralysed he could cut or hurt the arm without him noticing. There were several other minor incidents that people spoke off, but all in all, people quickly backtracked on a lot of the conclusions they had arrived at in that initial week.

Blaine though had other concerns on his mind. He had never quite gotten over his initial fascination with the new kid, and, although he had yet to speak a word to him, he was starting to worry about him. As far as he knew, Kurt spoke to no one, and seemingly disappeared during any break periods. Even now, he was nowhere to be seen in the Hall. Did he go someone special to eat, he wondered. And why did he skip school so often, although (at least in the classes they shared) he always had his homework and in-class assignments printed and ready to present to the teacher. Did he have some sort of arrangement with the school that would explain his absences?

Blaine was starting to become obsessed with everything surrounding Kurt Hummel, something that his closest friends teased him mercilessly about. Only Wes was somewhat sympathetic, and in the quiet moments in their dorm room, he spoke seriously to him, at first cautioning him about his fascination with a person he had not even spoken to before finally, in the past few days, urging him to just talk to him and see if that would help cure his obsession, or even give him a deeper connection to the boy. But, Blaine groused, giving up on his lunch, how would that ever happen if he had no idea where to find the boy outside of class. Grumbling to himself, he made his excuses and rose from the table, waving absentmindedly at David's reminder that they were due to have their not so impromptu performance at quarter past the hour. That was fine with him. It gave him a good twenty five minutes to get his mind off Kurt and into the frame of mind to give the upbeat energy required for a Katy Perry number.

And by the time he was hurrying toward the staircase that would lead him to the performance area, decidedly late for the performance he was to star in, he had reached that coveted mental state. He lost his calm immediately though at the sight that met him on the staircase. Kurt was pressed against the side of a railing, clutching it awkwardly with his good hand, as if he was afraid of being trampled by the Dalton students, racing down the staircase. He had good reason to be afraid, Blaine realised a moment later, as a senior actually brushed against him, causing him to flinch and grip onto the bar even tighter. He could easily lose his balance, Blaine saw, feeling a wave of anger rise within him at the thoughtlessness the students were showing. He would have to mention it to a teacher later he told himself, as he hurried down the staircase, putting an arm protectively around Kurt before murmuring to him, "I've got you Kurt."

"Who...?" he blurted out, his voice shaking slightly in a way that had Blaine tightening his hold a bit more while running a hand down his back in a soothing gesture. He was relieved when he felt the tense muscles relax momentarily, and he continued the motion until the last of the students passed them.

Almost reluctantly, he ceased the movement then, before saying, "Let's get you on flat ground okay?"

"Okay."

Although it was not strictly necessary, Blaine kept his hand pressed against the small of Kurt's back as they slowly walked down the stairs, the boy sighing in relief when they reached the bottom before turning to look at his saviour.

"Thank you..."

"Blaine," he said quickly. "I'm Blaine Anderson. I'm in a few of your classes."

"Right, I thought your voice was familiar."

Another person would have found such a statement odd, but for Kurt, it was the truth. The boy never really looked around the classroom, and since he inevitably chose a seat in the front of the room, it was not likely that he would have seen him.

"And you're Kurt, Kurt Hummel."

"That I am," he agreed. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, what was that just now? Is there usually a stampede on the staircases during lunch or is this just a one-off thing?"

"This isn't common," Blaine hurried to assure him. "It's just that the Warblers are having a special performance in...well right now, and the guys are a bit excited to see it."

"And the Warblers are...?"

"Our glee club!" Blaine burst out with a wide grin. "We're like the rock stars of the school, so people get a bit over-enthusiastic whenever we perform like this."

"I take it you're in the club?" he said, wryly.

Blaine flushed slightly, realising that he was all but bouncing on his feet. This really wasn't making a good impression, he realised, but, looking at Kurt, his heart warmed the slightest to see the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm supposed to be there actually. Say, do you want to come Kurt?"

"Um, no thanks," he replied after a moment.

"Oh come on," Blaine pleaded. "You'll enjoy it; I swear you will. I'll even make sure you're not standing near to any of those hooligans who nearly knocked you over earlier. So please?"

Blaine knew he was laying it on a bit thick, but he could not help it. He was certain that Kurt would enjoy his performance. Besides, it would give him something to talk to him about afterwards.

Just as he was about to go all out and pout at him, Kurt gave a small sigh before nodding. "All right. I'll watch you."

Blaine tried to stamp down the bit of elation in his heart at the use of the pronoun. "Great. Err...we'll have to hurry a bit though. We're kind of...well really late now. Um, you okay to run?" he ended hesitantly.

"I think I can manage that," he responded wryly.

"Good!"

It was a spontaneous move on his part, and later on he would wonder if this was why Kurt refused to speak to him for the remainder of the day. But for now, it felt perfectly okay to reach out and grab Kurt's arm – the one he knew was paralysed – and take off, forcing the boy to keep up with him. He looked back occasionally, each time offering him a wide encouraging smile as he reduced the usually five minute journey into one under two minutes. He stopped at the door, wincing slightly as he heard Wes' singing from within. He was going to get it good afterwards, but he couldn't bring himself to be too disturbed about it, not when Kurt was looking up at him, his cheeks reddened from their trek.

"Thank you Kurt," he said sincerely, shocking them both by lifting his hand up and placed a soft, lingering kiss against the glove covered knuckles before releasing it. "Shall we go in?"

* * *

"Hey bud," Burt said, opening his son's bedroom door.

"Dad," Kurt smiled, looking up from his computer. "What's up?"

Burt entered the room fully, holding up a tray with two tall glasses on it. "Milk-shake?"

"Dad," Kurt began, before Burt interrupted him.

"I used low fat milk with that supplement thing you made me buy last week. Plus that sugar substitute thing. There's absolutely nothing unhealthy in here."

"Except for the four inch layer of whip cream on top?" he asked wryly, even as he pushed himself back from the chair.

"Three inch layer," Burt grinned, handing him a glass, before flopping down on his bed. "Homework?"

"Yeah, Geography," he responded. "It's due Thursday, but I figure I'll be able to email it tonight if I push through."

"There's no rush bud," Burt told him carefully, "you know that."

"I do," Kurt nodded, taking a long drag of the milkshake, "but I never come back from these things in any sort of mind frame to be...productive. I rather get as much out of the way now."

"How is school going?" Burt asked quietly. "Um, Finn...he mentioned that you seemed a bit...out of it when he picked you up. And, you were rather quiet over dinner. Something happened?"

The barest hint of a frown formed on Kurt's face at that, before he let go of the mild annoyance he felt toward his stepbrother. He was certain that Finn would have talked to him himself had he been home rather than calling Burt. He was just concerned for him. More than that, since this whole situation had started, he had grown even closer to his father and as such, knew he could tell him any and everything.

"Well there's this guy," he began.

"They're all guys Kurt," Burt teased, "you're in an all-boys school now remember?"

"How could I forget?" he retorted. "Anyway, there was this thing lunchtime. The school's glee club was performing."

"I didn't know they had a glee club. Are they any good?"

"They're great actually," he admitted. "They're strictly acapella though, but still, it's great. Anyway, a bunch of guys were running down the stairs while I was on it. I was fine dad!" he hurried to assure when Burt took in a sharp breath. He had tumbled down the stairs a good few times for the year already, so much so that they had gotten it carpeted to reduce the hurt he suffered if he lost balance on it. He knew his dad had seen Dalton's staircases though; a tumble down those would result in a lot more than the hurt pride he suffered at home.

"Are you sure?" he demanded.

"Yes dad," he said with a small smile. "I wasn't hurt. I mean, I lost my balance a bit, but I managed to grab on to the railing...and then...this guy, he just showed up behind me and held on to me." Kurt's gaze lowered slightly as he continued. "I mean, I told you that I think people have figured out about me although no one's said anything. No one's really talked to me at all really. But he – Blaine's his name – he actually spoke to me, and he acted like we were always friends. He didn't even ask anything or treated me differently. He just kept his arm on me as we went down and then he talked to me."

"Sounds good so far," Burt responded, trying not to focus too much on the way a small flush was slowly creeping up his son's neck. "Then what happened."

"He's the lead singer for the glee club – they're called the Warblers. He asked me to come with him to watch them perform. I didn't want to. Dad – well, you know. But he got started to pout, and he looked so cute I just couldn't resist so I agreed. And then, he grabbed my hand dad..._this_ one and he pulled me along."

Burt's breath hitched at that, knowing how sensitive Kurt was about his arm. He hated anyone touching it; Burt still saw the way he fought against a grimace whenever he helped him into a shirt (he had long since given up on anything that he had to pull over his head to get on). So for some stranger to just grab his arm like that...

"I wasn't sure what to do dad. I was going to yell at him, believe me I was. But then he turned around and gave me this big goofy smile and I could do nothing else but smile right back at him. But what gets me dad, is what he did when we got there. _He kissed my hand dad_. Kissed it and gave me this look. I know I was blushing dad, so bad. And then, when he was singing...he kept looking at me throughout the song set. I felt like every word was directed towards me, dad, and I don't know how I feel about that."

Burt was silent for a long moment after Kurt stopped speaking, just processing what his son had told him. No wonder his kid had been so quiet this afternoon. He would too if he had been in his shoes. After all, if all of that boy's actions were to believed, he was clearly interested in his son – someone he had never spoken to before. He wasn't entirely certain how he felt about that, but he was more interested about his son's own feelings toward the matter. Kurt had gone through so much over the past few months, the last thing he needed was some boy flirting with him and seeking his attention.

"Do...do you want me to speak to someone about this Blaine kid?" he asked carefully.

"No dad," Kurt replied, immediately. "I'm just...confused? I mean, why would he do that? He knew – it's obvious he knew and yet he took my hand, and he kissed me dad. And the more I think about it, the more I know that he's been watching me, has been for a while now. Why would he be interested in me? I'm – I-m worthless."

"You are not!"

Burt lowered his voice seconds later, cursing himself for causing his son to flinch like that. But, it needed to be said. "Kurt Hummel, I never want to hear those words coming from your lips again, you understand?"

Kurt's eyes widened at the harsh words his father spoke. It was not as if he had never seen his dad angry before; it was just that he had never experienced this anger directed towards him. "Yes sir," he murmured, well aware that his voice was not at all convincing.

Burt allowed the matter to drop though after one last stern glare. "Finish your milkshake bud," he said gruffly, taking a long slurp of his milkshake. "As for this Blaine kid, just be careful around him okay? I won't tell you what to do about him; heck I don't know."

"But what do you think?"

Burt shrugged. "The kid sounds like he has a bit of a crush on you honestly."

"You really think so?" Kurt asked, his eyes not lifting off the drink in his hand.

"Sounds like it. It's not the usual way of handling such a thing, but who knows what that school teaches those kids."

"I'm one of those kids now you know," he teased before chuckling at his father's grimace. "I'm surprised though that you're so cool about this."

"Kurt," Burt replied seriously, "the day your mother told me she was pregnant I invested in a piece of land that only I know the location to, a shotgun and a shovel. I have nothing at all to be concerned about."

"Dad!" Kurt sighed exasperatedly. "There will be no premeditated murder."

"Defending the kid already?" Burt huffed. "I'm liking him less and less."

"Dad!"

"I'll behave," he conceded. "So, are you okay now?"

"Yes dad," he nodded. "I'm fine. And you can tell that to Finn to when he gets home."

Burt reached over to take the now empty glass from his hand. "Tell him, yourself. He'll be back by eight."

"Is he grounded or something?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then why on earth will he be back here so early? His curfew isn't until half ten. No... Dad tell me Finn isn't cutting into his time with his friends to come back here."

His father's shrug said it all.

"You all can't keep doing this!" Kurt burst out, emotion lacing his tone. "I told you. Stop putting your lives on hold for me. You don't have to. Just forget about poor one arm Kurt and – "

"I told you not to insult yourself," Burt shot back harshly. "No more Kurt. I won't allow you to put yourself down like this."

"It's the truth!" he shot back, rising to his feet and gesturing wildly at his right arm. "I can't do anything anymore. I'm useless and just because you won't admit it doesn't mean that I won't. Stop pretending dad. Just why don't you admit it; I already have. This makes no sense. Not the therapy, not the psychologist. If there was any hope something would have happened by now. But it's useless."

"It's only hopeless if you give up! Kurt, you're only listening to what you want to here. It hasn't even been three months yet. You have time still before we look at other options."

"What options? A surgery with only an eighty five percent success rate," he scoffed. "Given my luck so far, I'll probably fall into that other fifteen percent!"

"Well you won't know until you try! Dammit Kurt. You're more than this. You're a Hummel and Hummels do not give up. We've been through hard times and we've gotten through it. This is just one more obstacle that we have to face and we will get through it. You have to try; you cannot give up. Don't let them break you like this Kurt. Don't let them rob you of more than they already have."

Kurt could only stare as his father slowly drifted into silence. There were tears in the man's eyes, something that shocked him even more than his words to him. He had never seen the man cry before. He was certain of that. He must have cried when his mother died, and he didn't even need Finn to tell him that his dad had been upset. But he had never let Kurt see him as anything other than a pillar of unremitting strength. For him to show this side of himself now proved just how much his words had affected him.

"Dad...I'm...I'm sorry," Kurt said shakily, unaware that tears were starting to trickle down his own cheeks. "I didn't mean...I never meant..."

He did not get a chance to finish, for seconds later Burt had pulled into a tight embrace. "It's okay buddy. I'm not mad at you. You had to say it - to get that poison out of your system. But you can't give up hope Kurt. It's all we have left."

"I thought all we had was each other and the tire shop?"

"Cheeky brat," Burt laughed, pulling back to look into his eyes. "That was a while ago. We have so much more now."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I have you, yes. But I've also got Carole and Finn, plus the New Directions. I'd never have gotten so far without them."

"You've got some pretty amazing friends bud," he agreed. "And maybe you'll find a few at Dalton; _not_ starting with that Blaine kid."

"Oh dad, you like him already."

"No sass Kurt. Now, I think we've had more than enough conversation for one night. I'll leave you to finish your essay now. Tell me when you're ready to shower and I'll be here a few minutes after that."

Kurt frowned slightly. "Dad...do you mind if I try by myself tonight?"

"What?"

"Dressing. I- I want to try first okay. I mean, how hard can putting on a shirt be?"

He tried to joke about it, but Burt still noted the bit of waver to his tone. Still, he realised what his son was intending by his words and decided that he would allow it. "Well, it only took you four days to do your fly with one hand."

"Out!" Kurt snapped, his cheeks darkening at the memory.

Burt chuckled, but released him entirely. "I'm sure Carole will come see you when she gets home...as will Finn."

"Then I better get cracking," he laughed, sitting down once again. "Good night dad."

"Good night bud. I love you."

"Love you too."


	3. Chapter 3

"Your lover boy is still here Blaine," Wes stated, looking out a window.

"He's not my – where?"

Wes snorted at that. Teasing Blaine was ridiculously fun sometime, especially when it came to Kurt Hummel. After thoroughly chewing him out for his late arrival to the performance, he and his roommate had passed a considerable amount of time discussing his first conversation with the new kid. Wes was still slightly wary though, a week after that initial conversation. He wasn't sure it was safe or healthy for Blaine to be this enamoured by someone, especially since he knew so little about him. Love at first sight only occurred in fiction after all; plus, there was also that hulking giant of a footballer boyfriend to contend with. Blaine had looked crestfallen at that reminder, but the next morning saw Blaine perched by the window looking out for him and then sighing in disappointment when it became obvious that Kurt would not be in school that day. Wes supposed that it really was an established routine for the kid to attend school for only a few days a week.

"Under the trees," Wes told him, pointing the teenager out to him. "Seems like he's waiting for someone, the giant maybe."

Blaine moved to his side, a slight frown forming as he observed him. Classes had been dismissed for the day an hour now, and so, scattered about the grounds were groups of boys hanging. Kurt's solitary state was rather glaring resultantly. He was leaning against a tree, tapping his phone against his leg as he looked about him, almost absentmindedly.

"He's usually gone by now, right?" Blaine asked.

"I wouldn't know," Wes shrugged. "It's not like I keep tabs on him...unlike you."

The lead Warbler did not even catch the subtle jab, too engrossed by his perusal of the teenager. He had not gotten an opportunity to speak to him since that performance. Kurt had slipped out among the other boys, and was long gone by the time Blaine noticed his absence. Classes had started before he had found him, and despite his efforts to get him to look in his direction, Kurt's attention had rigidly remained on the whiteboard. And since he apparently never came to school for the latter half of the week, it had been a long stressful few days for Blaine as he mulled over his interactions with him, wondering if he had done anything to offend him.

"Seems like he's staying for a while," he murmured, as Kurt slowly slipped down the tree trunk until he was sitting cross-legged on the grass.

Wes looked at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes and starting walking off.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To find David and Nick," he called over his shoulder. "You go talk to lover-boy. You know you want to."

Blaine couldn't deny that.

Ten minutes later, he hesitated a few feet away from his obsession. Kurt had opened his bag in that time and had that weird device on his lap, tapping away at it. Blaine felt as if he would be intruding into the boy's private moment if he was to speak to him now; but he really did not want to lose the opportunity, who knew if there would be another.

The decision was taken from him when Kurt looked up, arching an eyebrow when he saw him there, staring at him.

"I know I'm fabulous," he said, "but really, there's no need to stand there and stare."

"So it'll be better if I sit and stare?"

"I rather you not stare at all."

"Well I guess I'll just sit then."

Blaine matched actions to his words, even as his heart raced a bit at the light banter they had engaged in. Kurt had to like him, if only a little bit, otherwise why else would have a faint smile on his face as he dropped down beside him, careful to leave a bit of space between them. He pointedly looked at a spot on the grass, until he heard a light snort from beside him.

"What," he whined, "you said not to stare."

"You're a dummy."

Blaine looked up at that to give him a doleful expression. "And you're a meanie."

"What are you, five?"

"I'm six!"

"You're holding up four fingers."

"Math was never my strong point."

Kurt snickered at that, a sound that tugged at Blaine's heartstrings. He wondered how Kurt would sound if he gave a deep, unrestrained laugh.

"Why are you still here?" he broached a moment later. "I mean, I've never really seen you about the school once classes are ended." I don't really see you at all, he silently added.

Kurt shrugged. "My dad is supposed to pick me up today, but an emergency case came up, so he's stuck in the shop for a while longer."

"Oh."

"He wanted to tell Finn to pick me up, but I rather wait here a few more hours rather than have him skip his football practice."

So the jock's name was Finn, Blaine noted, and he had to have a good relationship with Kurt's dad for him to suggest such an action.

"Do you live far from here?"

"Lima," he responded. "And you?"

"I live in Westerville. I dorm here though...most people do."

"Well I guess I'm not most people."

"You aren't."

Blaine flushed a moment later as Kurt's eyes widened. He really had not meant for that to come out as it had.

Kurt looked away for a moment, and Blaine was certain he heard him mutter "I guess dad was right."

Desperate for a change of subject before Kurt rebuffed him for his weirdness, he looked down, noticing the gadget Kurt used in class. "What is that?" he asked with honest curiosity, bending a bit closer to get a good look at it. It looked like an olive green keyboard, equipped with a tiny display, but he had never seen something quite like it.

"It's an AlphaSmart Neo," Kurt explained. "It's like an electronic typewriter. I input whatever I want in it and it's stored until I transfer it to my laptop."

"Wow, that's cool."

"It is," he agreed, fingering it lightly. "It's a lot easier to carry this around than my laptop."

"I guess it would be," Blaine replied, twisting his body around so that he could see Kurt better. Although the teenager had answered his questions readily enough, there was an almost unreadable expression on his face; it was enough of an indication to Blaine that he was not entirely comfortable about the way the conversation was going. Undoubtedly he expected Blaine to push forward and ask why exactly he used it, especially since his open book bag, resting between them, clearly contained nothing but a Kindle, a cell phone and an Ipod, among a few miscellaneous items. If he had wanted, he could have asked about his arm – it was a natural progression to the conversation, but Kurt's expression clearly showed that it was not a topic for discussion, at least not yet. That confirmed Blaine's initial thoughts. Kurt definitely had not been born this way.

"How do you like Dalton so far?"

Kurt looked at him disbelievingly for a moment before a grateful look crossed his face. "It's a beautiful place," he said sincerely. "It's like something right out of a drawing."

"I know. When I first came here I used to spend all my time just wandering about, exploring and taking pictures. You've definitely found one of the best places on the grounds though. This is a prime nesting spot for birds. Give it a few more weeks and this place will be filled with bird calls."

"I'll have to remember that," he said softly. "There isn't much nature in Lima. It's a nice change."

"Have you gotten a chance to explore the buildings yet? The architecture in some places is amazing, if you're into that sort of thing."

"Not really," he admitted. "I haven't really ventured around yet. I know where my classes are – barely - and of course the administrative building, but nothing more."

"We'll have to rectify that a next day then," he told him. "You can't call yourself a Dalton student unless you've been in every last one of the rec rooms."

"And just how many are there?"

"Five. Each one caters to a specific activity, but all have a common area as well where you can just relax and hang out."

"Do you have a preference for any particular one?"

"Not really," he admitted. "I tend to be in Mackintosh's on mornings, as all my early classes are in the building next door. After school depends on whether or not I have Warbler practice that day, and on weekends I'm usually in the one near the gymnasium."

"You play sports?"

"Boxing mostly," he explained, "but I can play tennis fairly well. Do you play anything?"

Blaine regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but the damage was already done. Kurt's entire frame had stiffened, and he was no longer looking at him. "Look Kurt," he apologised, his tone shaky. "I'm sorry. I was so out of place to-"

"Football," the boy interrupted, his voice monotone. "I played football – one match, but yeah, football. I was a cheerleader for a year as well. We won nationals."

"Erm...well...that's great," Blaine replied weakly, deeply upset with himself. Kurt had actually been talking to him, and now he had gone and screwed it all up. Maybe changing the topic would work again. "Um, are you caught up with all the makeup work?"

"What?"

The boy turned to him with a confused expression, and Blaine was quite certain it was not due solely to the abrupt change of topic.

"When I first transferred here," he said quickly, "I felt like if I would drown with all the work I had to do to catch up, and I only transferred in a week late. I can't imagine how much you have to do."

"When did you transfer?"

"I transferred in my sophomore year."

"You're a junior then."

"Yes," Blaine responded, although he was not quite certain how he had become the subject of inquiry. "I had to deal with a bunch of 'I told you so" from my family."

"Why?"

Blaine scratched at the back of his neck before responding. It was not really something he was comfortable talking about, but, he figured with the level of discomfort he had caused Kurt so far, it was the least he could do.

"I may have misled you a bit with my transfer remark. I mean technically I transferred into Dalton Academy, but I've always been in Dalton's system, except for my first year of high school. I attended Dalton's prep-school all the way up to the middle school. But for high school, I wanted a change. I wanted to see what the world outside of Dalton was like. My parents weren't in favour of it; they actually staged an intervention with my uncles and aunts at one point, but I was persistent. So they enrolled me into Westerville High School instead of well...here. Let's just say Kurt that the classroom is a very different place without an anti-bullying policy."

Blaine broke off at the loud snort Kurt issued at that, but continued after a moment. "It was...torture. I got insulted from the start...no one appreciated my fashion sense. Things escalated when people realised that my family was wealthy and then when they found out I was gay...things just went downhill from that. I guess I was partly to blame; looking back I shouldn't have flaunted how different I was from everyone else, but then, I never had to curtail myself in Dalton. By the end of the school year though, my parents had had enough. My mom noticed a bruise on me from where a jock got a little too rough. But what cemented it was an altercation I ended up in at the mall.

"I was there with my mom and some of the Westerville goons decided to corner me. They thought I was alone. Let's just say Kurt, that my mother is a formidable woman. Not only did she get me out of the situation, she got contact information for all of their parents and informed them of just exactly what they had tried to do to me. After that she laid into me, before demanding that my dad have me enrolled here. I'd lost the freedom of choice for hiding the truth from them. I didn't really mind though. That day...it really scared me. I started boxing soon after that. I ended up getting Appendicitis two weeks before the term started, so I ended up missing the first week. You wouldn't believe how happy I was when I showed up to find most of the guys from my early schools here."

"I noticed that," Kurt said. "Everyone seems to know each other around here."

"Because most of us attended the earlier schools," he shrugged. "I mean, not everyone goes through the entire Dalton school system, but I'd wager at least eighty percent of the students attended one of the earlier school levels."

"No wonder I stick out so much."

Blaine couldn't deny that. Kurt would have been a lot more integrated into the school had he started as a freshman. It really was rare for a completely new student to enter the Dalton system at this stage.

"You'll fit in," Blaine reassured him. "You just have to find the right space for you."

"Maybe," he whispered. "Thanks for telling me that story Blaine. I realise now it was rude of me to ask."

"Oh no Kurt, I really don't mind. Our relationship is based on honesty. I'll never lie or hide anything from you."

"Our relationship?"

"Err...yeah," Blaine hedged. "I mean...we're friends now. Or we could be...if you wanted to. And...friendship is based on honesty so...I'll never lie..."

"You're rambling," Kurt interjected, a smile crinkling at his lips. "You really are a dummy, you know."

Blaine's face fell into a crestfallen expression that drew a chuckle from the other teenager. "If I'm a dummy, you're a meanie," he returned petulantly.

"And you're really five."

The Warbler laughed warmly at that, before giving Kurt a hopeful look. "So, what do you say? Do we have a relationship?"

Kurt's eyebrows rose at the wording, but he nodded. "You're amusing Blaine. I'd love to have a...relationship with you."

"That's great. You didn't answer my first question though."

"Which was?"

"How you're managing the workload?"

"Erm. There isn't much to manage," he told him. "I've been a Dalton student since mid December. I've been communicating with the teachers through email and Skype up until now and I've emailed in all of my class assignments thus far."

Blaine took a moment to process that. "So that's why Mr. Kentwood said that you were finally joining us."

"Yeah," he confirmed, "I've interacted with all of my teachers at least once over Skype, but I spoke to him the most. Dalton's really great for that. My dad had been worried I would end up having to repeat the school year, but instead they worked that out for me. I mean it was tough at first. Dalton's curriculum is so different from McKinley's but I'm on top of it now."

"I'm glad."

Blaine wasn't sure how to continue. Kurt's revelation had only serve to raise several more questions for him, chief among them being why he couldn't just come to school from the start of the term.

"You can ask you know," Kurt said, eventually, looking at him. "I know you want to."

"I don't want to be rude," he admitted immediately, seeing no purpose in pretending that he was not aware of what Kurt meant.

"I know," he nodded. "You've been trying your best not to bring it up, and you aren't...staring at me like some of the other guys do. It's...nice."

"I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"That's very nice of you," he smiled, before using his left hand to bring up and drop the right one into his lap. "This is why I couldn't start Dalton earlier. I'm assuming that's what you wanted to ask?"

"Y-yeah," he admitted, trying not to stare at it.

"You don't have to be so shy about it," Kurt told him. "After all, you have grabbed and kissed it after all. I'm still deciding if I'm offended by that, by the way."

"I'll have to do my best to convince you otherwise," he half-joked. Reaching out (and carefully gauging Kurt's reaction), he gently curved his fingers around Kurt's hand, squeezing it lightly.

"I was in the hospital," Kurt eventually said, his eyes locked on their linked hands. "I was in there from mid-December to the end of January. It took me two weeks at home to get accustomed to...functioning and then I started here."

"Functioning?" he pressed carefully, noting the way that Kurt's voice had taken on that slightly monotonous tone from before.

"I'm right handed Blaine," he said shortly. "Or rather, I _was_. Trying to get used to being paralysed is one thing, but when it's your dominant hand that's been rendered useless, everything just gets a whole lot harder."

"Hence the processor," Blaine guessed.

"Exactly."

Blaine suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull Kurt into him for a hug. With those few words, Kurt had given him tremendous insight into his life and the difficulties he must have undergone recently. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to suddenly have a limb become useless. What it must be like to have to learn to do everything over again. To not be able to do a simple task like writing or even opening a book without assistance...it was too hard a thought to bear.

"Is there any chance of recovery?" he inquired.

"Slim to none. Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"All right," he agreed, realising that Kurt had reached his limit. He had admitted a lot more than he thought he would have initially. He could more than afford to give him respite for now. There was still a lot more he wanted to learn about Kurt, but for now, he would satisfy himself with what he had learnt for now.


	4. Chapter 4

A few weeks passed, and Blaine and Kurt slowly grew closer to each other. Their 'relationship' was one that brought great pleasure to them both, but for Blaine, the greatest joy was in watching Kurt slowly come out of his shell and start actively interacting with other students. It had not been an easy process, compounded by the fact that he still only attended school a few days a week. But the days he was there, Blaine ensured that he was drawn into the Dalton lifestyle. He had gotten him into the lunchroom, sitting him with the other Warblers. He had been shy at first, answering only when spoken to, and trying his best not to make a mess of his lunch, but by the third day, he had been laughing alongside them, and even good-naturedly endured the guys occasionally attempting to feed him (although Blaine was proud to note that he was the only one who brought a blush to his face at those times).

Surprisingly, Kurt did not react badly to the guys trying to help him once he realised that they were not pitying him in any way, but genuinely wanted to assist him. Blaine had laughed at his bemused expression when David and Nick had actually gotten into an argument about who got to carry his bag while they walked to their Geography class, and had given him a reassuring hug after the Warblers decided to hold a special performance just for him.

Blaine learnt a lot about Kurt. That his real mom had died when he was eight, and that, on particularly stressful days he wished she was still around; that his dad had re-married only the year before, to a woman he had only knew a few months but was head over heels in love with; that the jock was his overprotective step-brother who had vehemently protested against him coming to Dalton. Apparently he had wanted him to go the route of home-schooling, but, for all that he was somewhat timid around people, Kurt hadn't wanted to be locked away in the house for days on end. He knew that he loved Broadway and musicals and fashion, and that one of the worst things about his arm was the fact that he couldn't dress up as much as he wanted (when he wasn't in his version of the uniform) and that he just didn't bother with Dalton's full uniform since he was prone to panic attacks if he actively focussed on his lifeless arm and struggling into more than a shirt was too much for him. Allowing his family to help him dress was problematic enough, although, he had proudly told him two weeks ago that finally, he had gotten into and buttoned up the shirt himself without any assistance. The tie though, still defeated him, and he refused to cave and allow a clip-on tie be made for him.

Kurt had slowly but surely opened up to him. He's even showed him the practice book he was using in his attempts to learn to write with his left hand, and had blushed furiously but not protested when Blaine had shown up with a pack of stickers the next day, putting one by every page that had been done with relative neatness. But there were things that Kurt never told him – the truth behind how he had lost control of his arm being the most glaring. However, there were other things. Wes had dug up a few videos of their competition on Youtube, and they had all stared in shock at Kurt's appearance in several of New Directions' performances and even once at what appeared to be a school rally with cheerleaders. They hadn't found any video where he had had a prominent role, but the fact that he was from a glee club was enough and they had asked him to audition for the Warblers. He had refused, and, when Wes had pushed him, had launched such a scathing attack against them that they were all silent for long moments after he had stomped out the room. Unfortunately for them, that had occurred on a Wednesday afternoon, Kurt's unofficial last day of the week, and they had had no way of contacting him. But, when he had shown up the following week, he had been in relatively good humour, and only slightly hesitant around the Warblers. But, when it became evident that no one would push him about the matter further, he returned entirely to his jovial self.

Even now, Blaine had no idea why Kurt had reacted that way. The forgone conclusion was that it was tied to his arm, but no matter how much he and his friends had wracked their brains, there was no logical reason as to how a glee club could result in Kurt being hurt to such an extent. And so, reluctantly, he had let the matter go.

Currently Blaine was seated on the steps of Mackintosh, waiting for Kurt's arrival. He had to admit that he was worried about him. He had not shown up for school at all last week, and had not been accessible over the phone. He hadn't said a word about an extended absence to him, but the teachers did not seem at all phased by it. Well, Mr. Kentwood had looked toward Kurt's seat occasionally with a slightly worried expression, but Blaine figured that it had to do with the fact that he had an idea of what was going on with Kurt. Speaking of which...

A small smile tugged at Blaine's lips as Kurt came into view, walking slowly beside a middle-aged woman. After a moment, Blaine decided that this must be the step-mother. She'd never dropped him to school before, it was always Finn or his dad (who he had yet to meet since he just dropped him off by the entrance gate). She looked nice enough, he thought, as he got up and approached them. It was only polite that he introduce himself; after all, he was the one who Kurt remained with on the afternoons when his family was late to pick him up. Kurt looked up at his approach, and Blaine found his smile faltering. Kurt looked drained...it was the only word he could come up with to describe him. His skin seemed paler than normal and the dark circles under his eyes were noticeable, even from this distance. He had not even bothered to do anything with his hair, and so it flopped down into his face, making him look even younger than he did otherwise. A wave of protectiveness rose within the Warbler, and he resisted the urge to just pull Kurt against him and keep him forever more in the safety of his embrace.

Mrs. Hudson-Hummel followed her step-son's gaze. "You must be Blaine," she said by way of greeting.

"Yes Ma'am," he replied, forcing his eyes away from Kurt who was not looking at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You can call me Carole dear," she bid him. "You've been taking such good care of Kurt here, I feel like you're family."

"I try," he said bashfully, before looking at his friend. "Hi, Kurt."

"H-hi Blaine," he responded softly.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Kurt's had a rough few days," his step-mother replied in his stead, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "But he really wanted to come to school today, so I brought him. Can I ask you to keep an extra eye on him today, just in case?"

"I will," Blaine said seriously, while noting that Kurt didn't even seem to be listening to their conversation, simply peering at a point over his shoulder.

"Well, I'll be going then," she told him. "Kurt?"

The boy looked up at her. "Y-yes Carole?"

"I'm going now, okay sweetie? Either Finn or I will be here by four to pick you up."

"Okay," came the quite reply.

Carole shot Blaine a sad look before reaching over to kiss Kurt's cheek. Blaine was mildly surprised when she hugged him, but it made more sense when she whispered to him, "Try to cheer him up today? He's had some bad news recently." Blaine whispered a positive response before the woman pulled back, and with a cheery wave, walked off, leaving Blaine standing there with his quiet friend. Blaine looked at him for a long moment, wondering what to do. He could tell that Kurt wouldn't be comfortable in the rec room right now, and he really did not want him to be bombarded by their friends without him warning them that they needed to back off from him today. It was clear that Kurt wasn't in the frame of mind to deal with any shenanigans.

He ended up taking him to one of the numerous benches that were littered about the compound, and they spent the time until class there. He managed to send out a mass-text to the Warblers, telling them of the situation and asking them to pass the word on so that Kurt would have a peaceful day. All of this was done while Kurt just stared at his lap, and more particularly, at his limp arm. Deciding that this really was not the time for any profound discussion, Blaine thought that he was better off trying to coax Kurt into a better mood. He could always try to get him to talk after school. He succeeded in getting a small smile on his face by the time classes were due to start, and sent him off to class with Wes and Nick with the faint hope of his mood improving.

It didn't.

It got worse, to the point that Blaine could only stare at Kurt with wide eyes as he shouted at him, even as tears poured down his face. He was grateful that he had brought them out here to their usual spot on the grounds, so that there was no one around to witness this meltdown. He didn't doubt that, once Kurt calmed down, he would be extremely embarrassed about this.

"You can't do anything to help me Blaine," Kurt yelled, turning reddening eyes to him. "No one can help me, no one! I don't know why everyone won't just leave me alone. I'm useless, worthless and I'm tired of everyone pretending like this isn't true. Look Blaine, I'm sorry I can't just smile and walk about like everything is just fine and dandy with me, but I can't, because it isn't. I'm fed up of all of this Blaine, and you...everyone just needs to leave me the hell alone. I can't be happy. How can I be happy? I'm a cripple Blaine, a cripple! Six year olds write better than me, and they sure as hell can do a lot more than I can do for myself. I can't drive my car, I can't even gel my hair. I'm a burden on everyone and I don't know why they don't just find a way to get rid of me. I'm ruining their lives.

"I can't sleep through a night; I can't even tie my shoes. Do you even know how embarrassing it is for a teenager to need Velcro sneakers?! I can't pretend anymore. I've tried but I can't do it. I won't get better, I'm tired of being patient and waiting and seeing if things will improve. They aren't – they won't and I don't see why everyone blames me when I say it. It's the truth. I'm a bloody useless cripple and the faster people accept it the better off I will be.

"And you, why are you even here? Why do you stick around me? I'm no good to have around. Why don't you just pretend that I never showed up here huh? It'd be a lot easier for you and a lot better for the Warblers if they didn't have to go around babysitting me whole day. And why do you treat me this way? You're always touching me, always holding me. Why do you kiss me? I'm worthless Blaine, a worthless stupid little cripple and I wish you'd hurry up and realise this and stop wasting your time on me and st-stop! Don't touch me Blaine, I'm serious. Don't...don't...Blaine..."

Blaine pointedly ignored Kurt's protests as he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tight into his chest. Despite his words, Kurt calmed quite quickly once Blaine pressed his head down against his shoulder and started running soothing circles on the small of his back. When he was sure that the boy was in a frame of mind to listen to what he said, he started to speak softly, keeping his tone light and soothing so that Kurt would not become agitated once again.

"So much anger within you," he started, pressing his hand against his back more firmly, "I'd wager that you have never had a chance to really release it. It makes me remember what your step-mom said this morning. What's happened to you over the past week Kurt, to make you react this way, hmm? I'm certain you didn't act this way at home or else they'd never send you here with all this anger boiling within you. No, keep calm Kurt, you've had your time to speak, and you've said plenty – a lot more than I think you're even aware of.

"It's easier to start from the bottom and work our way up, so let's do that okay? I care for you Kurt, and it's why I spend my time with you, why I walk you to class, stay with you on the grounds and do all those other little things for you. It doesn't burden me at all, nor do I see it as a nuisance. I like taking care of you; I'd do a lot more if you'd let me. It's the same with my friends. They like you Kurt; they aren't being nice to you for my sake. They genuinely like you. If you were paying attention today you'd have noticed how worried everyone was about you. They were worried last week when you didn't show up. _I_ was worried when you didn't show up, but I won't force you to speak about that if you do not want to.

"As for your family Kurt, I think the same applies. They love you and I seriously doubt any of them consider you to be a burden, far less unwanted. I can't speak for them, but I've seen the way your step-mom and step-brother interact with you, they genuinely care for your wellbeing and I don't think you should dismiss that fact. As for the rest, I'm sorry that the transition has been so difficult for you Kurt, and if I could help I would. But you can't give up and quit like this. You're stronger than that, I know it and I know somewhere in there, you know it. I know you don't want to hear this, but Kurt, you can't lose faith. When one door closes another one opens. You may have lost your arm Kurt, and with it so much things, but I think you need to consider what you've gained as a result of it. It may be hard, but there are some positives lying around. I'm sure of it."

Blaine stopped talking after that, and simply held Kurt to him, letting his words sink in. He was trembling slightly now, and he knew instinctively if he pulled back, he would see tears streaming down his friend's face. But that was okay as well. Something told him that Kurt hadn't cried in a long while.

"Let it out if you need to," he offered. "I won't mind. I'm here Kurt, I'm not going anywhere."

Kurt stiffened against him, and for a brief moment Blaine wondered if he had said the wrong thing. But then, Kurt took a shuddering breath and just sagged completely against him, breaking into body wracking sobs. Blaine held on to him, allowing his arms to rove up and down his back, sometimes reaching up to run through the hair at the back of his neck. He found himself humming at one point, and strangely enough, that was what finally calmed Kurt down.

When he was doing little more than sniffling occasionally, Blaine gently pushed him back from him to pull a handkerchief from his pocket. Kurt made to take it from him, but Blaine shook his head slightly. "Allow me," he whispered gallantly, before dabbing at his reddened cheeks. Kurt only stared at him while he did this, his expression wide and vulnerable. "How are you feeling now poppet?" he asked, not really noticing the endearment.

"A little better," Kurt admitted, his voice thick with tears. "I feel...lighter."

He sniffled, and, despite the sombreness of the situation, Blaine had to admit that the sound was particularly endearing. "That is very good," he said.

"I'm tired."

The way Kurt uttered the words made it abundantly clear to Blaine that he was not referring solely to his physical state. Additionally, he had a slightly expectant expression on his face, as if he expected him to rectify that situation. And it only took Blaine a few seconds to accomplish that.


	5. Chapter 5

Finn Hudson was trying to keep calm...trying to remind himself that the last thing Kurt needed was for him to come pick him up in a bad mood. It had started when he had called Kurt to warn him that he would be a bit late, and somebody else answered. He had calmed down somewhat when the guy had introduced himself as Blaine. He had to admit that he had never paid much attention to the Warbler those times he was there waiting for Kurt on mornings. He was usually more preoccupied about reminding Kurt to call him for anything at anytime or planning the fastest route back to Lima. But having him answer his little bro's phone...that was new. And, when, in rather hushed tones, Blaine had explained that Kurt had had some sort of breakdown, he had decided that the speed limit could screw itself. He needed to get to Kurt as soon as possible.

He cursed himself as he drove. He should have argued harder against Kurt going to school that day. He knew he had not gotten much sleep the previous night – the previous week to be more precise, and yet he, like his parents, had allowed Kurt to brow-beat them into submission. Not again. The only reason he had not yet told them of the situation was the fact that he didn't want all three of them hurrying to Westerville and to Kurt. That would probably overwhelm and embarrass him beyond what was necessary. No, he was perfectly capable of getting Kurt home and comfortable.

By now the school's security was used to him and so he was able to park without hassle, and thus, ignoring the glances of a few curious students as he walked, he quickly headed to the area where Kurt had taken to waiting for him. His eyebrows rose at the sight that met him as he approached. His little brother was there, as was Blaine, but he certainly had not expected to find Kurt's head pillowed in the older student's lap, with said student gently running his fingers through his hair. It was his expression that struck Finn the most; unless he was mistaken, that look on Blaine's face was one of pure adoration – he should know, Rachel looked at him that way, several times a day. Finn hesitated slightly, wondering how he should take this. He remembered how Burt had teased Kurt about Blaine's crush on him those first few weeks, but after a while, he had stopped mentioning it, and indeed only looked at Kurt with a slightly speculative gaze now whenever the boy's name turned up in a conversation. Finn hadn't paid much attention to it at all, once he had confirmed that Blaine was not a threat to Kurt. He really doubted that, given all that Kurt was going through, he would have any interest in romance, but, here was Kurt, who even now flinched on occasion when Finn approached him, completely relaxed in the lap of this teenager. He wasn't quite certain what to make of it, so for now, he dismissed it. He could deal with that on a next occasion; right now he needed to find out from Blaine what had happened with Kurt.

It was only when he was approaching them that he realised that Kurt was not simply laying there, but was actually asleep, and peacefully so if the slight smile on his lips was anything to go by. Nevertheless, Finn saw that his skin was slightly splotched, a definite indicator that Kurt had spent some time crying. Far from worrying him, Finn breathed a sigh of relief. Kurt was always honest in his tears. It was a cathartic act for him, so he was certain that he was, if only a little, in a better position that he had been that morning. Blaine looked up as his feet crunched on the grass, and, gesturing for him to be silent, Finn slumped down beside him, reaching over to stroke Kurt's cheek lightly in affection.

"How long has he been sleeping?" he asked in a hushed tone. He saw no need for preamble or niceties. Kurt was his concern; he could exchange pleasantries at a later date.

"About thirty minutes now," Blaine replied, his hands not stopping their movement. "He fell asleep quickly once I got him like this."

"I'm a bit surprised," Finn admitted, "Kurt doesn't let go of his guard so easily."

"He said he was tired. Besides, I think he exhausted himself with all the shouting he was doing."

Finn sighed. "He's been doing a lot of that recently. Poor kid, he's been having a rough time."

"Your mom said something similar this morning," Blaine said, offering him a slight smile.

"Yeah, well, it's the truth. Do you mind telling me a bit of what he said?"

Blaine obliged, and, by the time he fell silent, Finn was staring mournfully at his stepbrother. "I'm sorry you had to endure that," he apologised.

"I don't mind," came the immediate response. "Really Finn...I'm glad he exploded like that. I mean, he spent the entire day just...wandering about, like if he wasn't really here, mentally you know? It was...disconcerting. Yeah, I'm not happy he started yelling, but I think he needed to get it out. I'm glad he trusted me enough to break down like that."

"He likes you," Finn said simply, before sighing. "Did he tell you why he was absent last week?"

"No."

Finn frowned. "I'm not sure if I should tell you then...but you deserve to know I think. I mean, if Kurt comes back to school...I think you should know in case he goes off again. At least you'd have something to go off of to calm him down. But...that's if you want me to tell you. It's not really fair to you I guess. You didn't ask to deal with any of Kurt's...problems. Hell, none of us did, but I'm his brother and you're just a...friend. You can back out of this now if you wanted to. I'd not hold it against you and Kurt would get over it."

"If I do that, I'd be making his words come true," Blaine said after a long pause, his gaze dropping to the boy cradled in his lap. "He said he was worried about being a burden to those he cared about. He didn't say it out loud Finn, but he cares for me. His words indicated it and I...I care for him deeply as well. I mean, I've known him what, two months, but it feels like he belongs in my life and I think he feels the same way, you know. I may be being presumptuous in saying so, but I see how much...happier he gets when I'm in the same room with him, or I'm by his side, and I like that. I think I act the same way. And because of that, I don't think I can back out of...whatever it is you want to tell me Finn. I- Kurt deserves better than that of me. I could have backed out from the moment I realised he was paralysed. I didn't have to befriend him, I didn't have to fall in- care for him the way I do, but I allowed myself to do so, and it would be wrong of me to back out now that I've gotten myself so firmly entrenched in this. Wow, I didn't mean to say all that...but yes, Finn, I do want to know."

Finn gave him a long searching look. The guy had all but admitted that he loved his brother, but, there was such a sincere edge to his tone that Finn believed him. It didn't mean that he wouldn't help Burt load that shotgun, but hey, that was a bridge they'd cross if and when it reached to that point.

"I'll tell you," he decided. "If Kurt gets mad, it's me he'll yell at anyway."

Blaine laughed ruefully at that. Finn shrugged. Apparently the Dalton boy had taken that as a joke, but he was half-certain that Kurt would rip him a new one for what he was about to say. "It starts a bit before last week actually," he began. "Kurt got back his diagnostic reports from his last rounds of examinations. It wasn't good. There's absolutely no sign of life in his arm and, given how much time has elapsed, the doctors are giving up hope of that changing. Of course, these things aren't set in stone. There are people who, years after the fact, start regaining feeling, but, the numbers are few and the sooner the limb starts responding the better the outlook. Kurt's starting to fall into that category of people where the paralysis is permanent. He...he did not take it well at all Blaine. I hadn't seen him freak out like that since we first told him about it...he had to be sedated, and Burt ended up checking him into the hospital for a few days and put him on a watch list."

"Watch...list," Blaine repeated, his face paling considerably.

Apparently he had some idea of where he was going with this. "He didn't try to," Finn hurried to assure him – and himself, because frankly, they were all a bit baffled about that night still, and Kurt refused to talk about it, "it was just a...precaution. It was the night after that doctor's meeting. Kurt had been really quiet, too quiet given the circumstances. It was just him and Burt home that afternoon, and he had told Burt that he would be upstairs sleeping. Something told Burt to check on him, and it was a damn good thing he did. Kurt...I guess Kurt decided that the doctor's were testing his arm for feeling the...wrong way and he needed something significantly more painful to jog his feeling."

Blaine's breath hitched and as Finn watched, his hands moved to pull Kurt even closer to him.

"He was slicing his arm basically," Finn finished quietly. "He'd made a good few gashes before Burt managed to stop him. The doctors advised that it was best to leave Kurt in their care for a few days; we upped his therapy to everyday for those few days. When they were convinced it really wasn't a suicide attempt, Kurt was released, but we decided to keep him home from school anyway...hell, we still didn't want to send him today, but he was up and dressed before we could get a word in edgewise. Based on what you said though, I guess it wasn't him wanting to come here as much as it was him not wanting to burden us anymore."

"Is...is his arm okay?"

"It'll be fine Blaine. They were a lot messier than they looked. Only one required stitches and he had those removed Friday. The doctor doubts it'll even scar permanently. Kurt though...I don't know what he was thinking, well I do though but I can't believe he reached to that point. Kurt's in a bad place right about now Blaine. He was never really optimistic to start with, but to have to face the truth...plus the upcoming trial...it's too much for him; he's imploding. It's why I was actually happy you said he'd cried. It's the best thing for Kurt. I mean, I used to tease him about being a water spout, but it's honestly the best way for him to release all these...feelings from within him. I'm glad you were able to offer him that solace Blaine."

"I'm glad I could," Blaine returned.

"Yeah."

There was silence between them for a few minutes, not an awkward one, but just a few quiet moments while the two teenagers lost themselves in their own thoughts. Eventually Finn gave a shuddering sigh.

"I should get him home," he murmured, looking at the still slumbering boy. "I don't want to wake him though. He's hardly been getting any sleep lately."

Blaine looked between them. "You can carry him maybe? You're large enough," he suggested. He bit his lip with the other teenager snorted at that, but continued when he didn't seem offended. "I can bring his bag?"

"That's actually a good idea. And thanks for the help dude. You're pretty cool."

"You're pretty dapper yourself," he returned. "Although, I'm thinking Kurt won't be in school tomorrow?"

"More than likely, not," he agreed. "Burt's probably going to carry him to his therapist, just to make sure that everything's okay with him. I'll tell you what...I'll see if I can get Kurt to call you or something tomorrow. You guys should talk I think."

"I'll be grateful if you do."

Kurt remained asleep as the pair moved him. Finn's movements were almost seasoned, Blaine realised, as without hesitancy, he bent and, with one arm around his back and another under his legs, he straightened, holding Kurt tight to him.

"He tends to fall asleep all over the house," Finn explained, seeing his gaze. They walked slowly so that the slumbering boy would not be unnecessarily shuffled. "Sometimes he holds up in his room and we'll find him slumped over his desk or curled up in his window seat. Other times he'll start off with a movie on the couch and fall asleep half way through it. We've even had to rescue him from the backyard before a shower of rain and a couple of times he's wandered into mine or our parents' room in the middle of the night and curl up on the bed with us or in a chair."

"Sounds as if he doesn't want to be alone."

"Yeah, he won't admit it most of the times, but he prefers when someone is within hearing or seeing distance. Can you open the door?" he asked.

"Sure." Blaine retrieved the key from the pocket Finn indicated, and carefully Finn transferred Kurt to the back seat. They watched as, after a few seconds, Kurt twisted to his side with a sigh. "It's going to be hell getting him out," Finn said with a rueful chuckle. "Thanks for the help Blaine."

"Anytime," he responded sincerely. "See you soon Kurt," he added before quietly closing the door.

"I will make sure he calls you," Finn reassured, after watching him carefully for a moment.

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that."


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt missed the remainder of that school week, but after the second day, Blaine was able to put his fears to rest when Kurt texted him. He had to admit that he was more than a little happy by that gesture. He had given Kurt his phone number some weeks before, but it was the first time that he had ever used it. True, it was only a brief, almost dismissive "Home today," but Blaine took it for what it was, a silent message from Kurt that he was not quite sure how to speak to him, but if Blaine took the lead, he would continue to respond. And Blaine did, bombarding Kurt with several text messages, ranging from goofy and comical, to soothing and encouraging, as he worked to convince Kurt that he could continue to put his trust in him. And it seemingly worked. For when Kurt returned to the school, there was a small, yet genuinely happy smile on Kurt's lips as Blaine ran (yes ran) to meet him. He even gave a small laugh when Blaine briefly lifted him off his feet in a hug, but he accepted it in good faith.

Time passed slowly but surely after that. That afternoon on the grounds seemed to have broken whatever barrier had lingered between Kurt and Blaine, and he became a staple by his side between classes, and also became fully ingrained with the other Warblers, although they never did manage to convince him to attend a rehearsal with them, far less sing. For some, the mystery behind his arm remained a high priority, but as more time passed, Blaine forgot about it. At first he had told himself that Kurt would explain it to him in his own time, and then, it simply ceased being an important matter. Kurt was Kurt, no matter what had happened in his past, and he would not push him because of it, especially if it was to satisfy his own curiosity. He rather preferred continuing the non-relationship they were currently in.

"You look upset," Blaine said, without much preamble, as he dropped down besides Kurt, under what was now their tree. "You aren't having trouble with Physics again, aren't you?"

Kurt shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his face as Blaine reached up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. "I need a haircut," Kurt murmured, reaching up to feel where his hair crossed his collar. He had allowed his dad to have his hair shaped back into his sophomore hairstyle since it was basically zero-maintenance, but negligence had pieces of hair in his eyes if he wasn't careful.

"I like it," Blaine hummed, running his hand through his hair, and smiling when Kurt leaned slightly into the touch. "Now what has you upset?"

Kurt sighed, his contented smile diminishing. "It's Finn. He's been nagging me since last week to come to Regionals."

Blaine's hand faltered for a moment before it resumed its soothing caress. It was a touchy subject with Kurt; he knew that from experience because it was only two weeks now that he had finally given up on getting Kurt to attend the performance. At first he had thought it was reluctance on his part – maybe he did not want to choose between cheering for his brother and his new school, but there was a deeper underlying emotion that told Blaine that he was barely scratching the surface with regards to that matter. So, with some regret, he had let the subject drop.

"Finn should know that you don't want to go," Blaine said carefully, trying to keep him calm. "Why does he want you to?"

Kurt huffed, before moving so that he could rest his head on Blaine's shoulder, nuzzling him gently. Blaine smiled and allowed his arms to wrap around Kurt, pulling him closer against his body, and humming in approval when Kurt's hand clutched a handful of his blazer. He really did like the way Kurt responded physically to him now. It was as if mere touch could give him the strength and courage he needed to get through whatever it was that was causing him difficulty.

"I'm not really sure," he stated eventually. "He doesn't want to tell me why…it's more than just seeing them perform. But – I just can't Blaine, and he doesn't want to accept that. He says that I shouldn't still be afraid, that I'll be perfectly safe. Dad and Carole will be there as well, but I cannot…I can't step in there Blaine, and he just won't let it be. He only stopped nagging me this morning because Carole came to see why I was yelling, but now he's texting. I'm tired of this and I'm not looking forward to a next few hours of this when he comes to drop me home. Blaine, make him stop," he ended with a small whine.

It was his latest habit. Whenever something became too much for him, Kurt surrendered it all to him with wide-eyed trust as if he was certain that there was nothing that the Warbler lead could not fix. And luckily, so far, Blaine had not fallen short of his expectations. Hopefully, this time would be no different. "I'll talk to him when he gets here," he promised.

"And you'll make him stop asking?"

"I'll do my best," he assured.

And he did. He would never openly admit what he told the football player to Kurt, but it merely involved pointing out how stressed Kurt became whenever the matter was brought up and the fact that they both knew perfectly well the consequences of Kurt being stressed. And so, the matter was successfully dropped, that is, until Kurt overheard a conversation the night before the big day that was definitely not meant for his ears

"I told you guys it's meaningless. … No Rachel, I haven't spoken to him about it since then and I'm not going to. … You aren't the ones who saw his reaction – Blaine told me that he was freaking out, and I'm not going to be the cause of it when he's been doing so well lately."

Kurt knew better than to eavesdrop, but really, Finn was all but yelling on the phone, and he had heard his name called loudly during his trek to the bathroom. And, once he had heard the nature of the conversation he simply had to stop to listen. And now that he had started, he found that he could not stop, no matter how much his heart pained him to hear the frustration in his step-brother's voice. Frustration he had put there.

"Yeah, well we'll just have to do our best without him. It's not as if it loses meaning without him there. … I guess we can always print the sheet music and lyrics for him. … Wait, Mercedes that's even better; we can record it. I'm not sure he'd stay on the phone line like Mr. Shue did once he realises what we're doing. Yeah, hopefully that'll be enough to tell him how we feel. Otherwise… I just don't know."

It was the sound of someone coming up the stairs that snapped Kurt out of the daze he had slowly been falling into, and quickly, he retreated to his bedroom, the urge to use the restroom gone completely. He dropped down onto his bed heavily, staring blankly ahead of him as he pondered on Finn's frustrated words. They had planned something special for him? Why on earth would they do that? He still considered them to be his friends, but in all honestly, he scarcely talked to them anymore. He simply couldn't without bringing up memories he rather not deal with. It wasn't for a lack of trying on their part, but Kurt did not respond to their texts with more than two or three words, or just sat there listening as they tried to hold a conversation on the phone with him. None tried to actually visit him past the first day or two. He simply could not bear their pity and the safest way around it was to just ignore them completely. Kurt found his mind drifting to earlier in that year and his state when he had first started Dalton.

For all that he had attempted to stroll confidently down the grounds, safely held in Finn's firm one-armed embrace, he had been terrified. His bedroom had become his safe haven, where none save his family good get to him. And yet, here he was, approaching a new, sprawling estate masquerading itself as a school. A school filled solely with male teenagers, who, despite the constant reassurances given to him over the past few weeks, he believed could and would make his life a living hell. How was it supposed to be different from McKinley? There his clothes and sexuality had made him an open target. Here? Well there was no fashion to speak of (not that he wore any of those clothes anymore), but there was that glaring neon beacon that was flopping limply beside him.

Kurt was jolted from his thoughts by a warm hand settling on his shoulder, and, despite himself, he flinched away with a small cry. The hand retreated immediately.

"Kurt, buddy, it's just your old man," Burt said soothingly.

Dropping the hand he did not even realise he had raised in defence, Kurt squinted at his father for a moment, before straightening, trying to still his rapidly beating heart.

"You scared me," he managed after a moment.

"Sorry, kiddo," Burt responded, sitting down carefully beside him. "But I knocked then tried calling you. You were in your own world. Everything okay?"

Kurt did not answer immediately, but leaned against the man in a silent apology. He managed a small smile when his hand rose up to run through his hair. "Blaine does that," he murmured.

"Does he now?" came the curt reply.

"Dad!"

"I'm just playing," Burt relented. "Now, answer me bud. You okay?"

"Y-yeah," he answered, although the tremor in his voice was plainly apparent. "I was just…thinking…remembering."

Burt tensed beside him. "Do you need to see Doctor Smith?"

Kurt thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm okay daddy. I don't need to."

The older Hummel made a soft sound of agreement, while silently noting that "daddy". He really was not as fine as he was letting on, but he would not push him for now. If he still seemed to be in the same state the next morning, he would take him in for an extra therapy session, no matter how much he claimed it unneeded.

"I brought you up a fruit smoothie," he said, releasing him to fetch it from the table he had placed it on. "Carole found a new recipe and couldn't wait for tomorrow to try it apparently."

"Not that you're complaining," Kurt retorted with a snort, taking the offered handle.

"No. It's quite delicious."

"See? Something doesn't have to be lathered in oil to be tasty."

"Don't think I didn't see that smile on your face when Finn bought you that Big Mac last week."

Kurt blushed and took a large sip of his drink instead of responding.

"I'm not working tomorrow," Burt said, looking at him. "Carole has an early morning shift, but she'll be home by eight in the morning. I was thinking that we could go out for dinner…and not to Breadsticks. We'll try that new Chinese place near Adjacent."

"That sounds good," Kurt agreed quietly, choosing not to mention the gaping time span between activities. His dad didn't want him to be alone tomorrow morning, so Carole would go with Finn and they'd all have a family dinner to compensate for their absence at the competition. Telling Burt to go ahead without him would result in a needless argument, so instead Kurt said nothing, allowing his dad to pull him into his side once again while his mind drifted back to Finn's words.

00000000000

Needless to say, Kurt really did not get much sleep last night. General restlessness led to a brief but nightmare filled sleep that eventually resulted in him curling up on his windowsill, watching absentmindedly as the rising sun painted the sky in a myriad of colours. Somewhere between watching Mrs. Hensley embark on an early morning jog and watching the Stewarts head out for yet another road trip, he came to a decision that he knew he would surely regret. However, there was something in Finn's voice; that raw genuine frustration that went beyond mere disappointment that Kurt would not be joining them in the auditorium that had him putting his step-brother before him. After all, he could not count the number of sacrifices Finn had made for him over the past few weeks. The least he could do was this, going to support Finn and ergo his former schoolmates as they tried yet again to make it to Nationals. But, even though the decision had been made; he found himself remaining in his bedroom.

He pulled back slightly to be hidden from view when Carole returned, and then jumped back in bed and pretended to be asleep just before his door was cracked open. He managed to remain still even when Finn stood beside him and straightened the hastily pulled up cover, settling it over his shoulders with a tenderness that caused a warm feeling to creep into Kurt's stomach. There was an ease to Finn's gestures that suggested that he had done this before, and indeed, when his large hand settled for a long moment on his head, Kurt shifted instinctively, hazily remembering this feeling. Finn murmured something, too soft for him to discern, but then the warmth left him and he quietly shuffled out of the room. Kurt knew he should have said something – still could. He could get up, say that he wanted to go and that would be it. Instead he found himself immobilised by Finn's gestures, a calm finally filling settling over him, so that, despite all the thoughts against it, he snuggled deeper into his bed, and finally fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Getting there was no simple matter. Kurt had slept until ten o clock. And indeed, it was only a worried Burt checking on him that had roused him from a wonderful, Finn-induced slumber. His earlier decision did not return to him immediately, and it was only when he staggered into the kitchen and missed the hulking teenager inhaling his third or fourth bowlful of cereal that he remembered, startling Burt as he gasped loudly.

Burt could only stare at him as if he had suddenly developed a second head when he announced his desire. But, eventually his father had relented and he had headed to shower, knowing very well that Burt was looking questioningly after him. But there was no time to explain. As is, they would be late to the theatre. However, the closer they actually got to McKinley the faster Kurt's certainty about his decision faded, so that, by the time they actually pulled into the parking lot, and he saw the large dustbins he had been intimately acquainted with on numerous occasions, there was a visible tremor in his hand.

"Kid, are you sure about this?" Burt asked, as Kurt only stared blankly ahead at the school that suddenly seemed significantly larger than it had been before. "Kurt? Okay kiddo, that's it. We're going back home."

It was only the engine restarting that actually drew a response, and shaking his head, Kurt said, "N-no, I-I can do this."

"Kid," Burt said seriously, "you're shaking. Christ bud, I should have never brought you here in the first place."

"No- daddy. I got to do this."

"Why?" Burt half-demanded, although Kurt was happy to note that he cut the engine.

Kurt swallowed. He couldn't admit that he was doing this for Finn. Already he and Carole would hear of his attempt to come, and if Finn realised that he had overheard him, he would never forgive himself for this. "I-I just got to…the Warblers are performing too and they're my friends too. Daddy, I just got to do this."

"You don't got to do anything, Kurt," Burt said, although there was not much heat in his tone now. "Look Bud, we'll go in…the show's already started. We'll stay in the back and the moment I think you need to leave, you will. No arguments."

"I…okay," Kurt agreed, knowing that it was the best he could get out of his father at the moment. It wouldn't be so hard after all.

As it turned out, it was. Walking into the school felt like a death sentence and if it was not for the fact that his dad was watching him with hawk eyes, Kurt would have turned and fled before they even reached the doorway. But he held on, and managed to make it all the way to the auditorium hall before freezing as he heard the muted sounds of what he knew was the Warblers second song.

"We should wait until they're done," Kurt said by way of explanation to his sudden halt, and though Burt obviously saw through this shoddy lie, he did not protest, and instead tightened his grip on Kurt. But then the Warbler's performance ended, Kurt distracting himself by pointing out Blaine's parts. ("Don't recognise anyone else's?" Burt asked wryly at some point). Thunderous applause came from within, and Kurt felt his breath hitch in mild panic. His dad was going to make him go in now...

"B-bathroom," he blurted out, and, before Burt could really manage a word in edge-wise, he hurried toward it.

He knew he had about ten minutes to himself before his dad came to check on him, and almost all of it was spent with him clutching the edge of a far from clean sink and staring at his pale, sweaty reflection. He could do this…he could do this…he could…n't do it. A sound half way between a hysterical laugh and a choked sob flew past his lips at that last thought. He was having the beginnings of a breakdown in a McKinley toilet of all places. His dad was bound to take him to the doctor who would probably want to put him back on _those_ medications and recommend that he miss yet a next week of school (he was so lucky that Dalton was being so accepting about things). He used to be an actor, surely he could pull of a regular demeanour, and laugh away the length of time being spent here with some humour about the difficulty of drawstrings with one hand (yes, he was in public in a glorified sweat suit. But then again, he really didn't wear much beyond that anymore).

But, as it turned out, he wouldn't even be given the chance to make any excuses because the bathroom door swung open, revealing not only a concerned Burt, but an equally worried Blaine beside him.

"And this is why I said you shouldn't have come," Burt declared roughly, as he reached his side in two strides, pulling him away from the sink and into a crushing embrace. "It's too soon kid. I really don't know why you wanted to do this…but it's way too soon. Come on, let's get you home okay?"

Kurt didn't respond, too concerned with burrowing deeper into Burt and accepting his strength, allowing it to counteract the demons floating around in his mind. He caught a whiff of Blaine's cologne before he felt a handkerchief being dabbed at his sweaty face. He opened his eyes and caught his hazel-eyed friend eyeing him with a mixture of confusion and concern, even as he continued his soothing gesture.

"I met your dad in the hallway," he explained softly, obviously seeing the question in his eyes. "I decided to come see if there was anything I could do."

"You sounded good," Kurt responded instead, his voice painfully thin and laced with vulnerability, even as he felt himself slowly stabilising. Between his father whom he loved and Blaine whom he trusted absolutely, his fear reduced in intensity.

"Yeah, well I'm sure Blaine can fill you in on all that you missed later," Burt interrupted. "Kid let's get you out of here."

Kurt nodded, feeling disappointed when the arms left him. He was stubborn but not (that) stupid. If he couldn't actually make it into the hall, he knew it would be near impossible for him to actually manage going into there and seeing that stage. No, he had tried; Finn would have to give him credit for at least that.

"K, daddy," he agreed.

Blaine had, by this time, dampened the bit of cloth and had returned, the cooling effect a blessing. "Thanks Blaine."

"No problem poppet," he returned, scarcely noticing Burt's harrumph at the name. "Let's get you to your dad's car, okay?"

"K."

Leaving the area though meant passing the auditorium once again. He tried his best to ignore the double doors as they neared it, intent on simply bypassing it, but then he heard Rachel's voice. The lyrics he heard struck him, and he hesitated, Finn's words coming to mind as he heard her sing "…give us a chance to make things right."

"Kurt," Burt began, but Kurt ignored him in favour of listening.

It was clear now what Finn had meant the night before. There was no doubt about it; this song was for him. She was apologising in the best way she could; through song and one by one, all of the other members of the group joined in. He could only stand there and listen as the song finally drew to an end. There was a brief pause before a smattering of applause. It was understandable though, a song so grave deserved quiet respect. The music resumed, this time with a more upbeat pace with Finn pulling the lead. Kurt's breath escaped in a gasp and he looked toward the doors as if they were not there, picturing his step-brother singing a song meant for him. It was uplifting and a sign of their embracing of their status as losers. He managed a watery chuckle as Finn used his infamous line about the jocks someday working for him. It would never happen now, but the sentiments were there. There was a next pause, this one met by stronger applause before they launched into a song that actually had Kurt moving forward almost unconsciously, until he had passed through the doors, too engrossed by what he was witnessing to pay close attention to his actual position.

He stood there, just within the doorway as all of his former schoolmates, in a simple yet moving formation, sang out the comforting words of "Don't Dream it's Over". The sincerity of their voices brought tears to his eyes. They were singing so beautifully, with genuine emotions even though they believed he was not there. This was why Finn had been so incessant that he come. This was the New Directions' way of offering him one final, heartfelt apology for what they had failed to do. And even though they would never know he was there, he accepted it for what it was. By the time the song reached its crescendo, he was openly crying, for what he was not quite certain, but he did not fight as Burt reached for him and gently helped him out, although if he had taken one last look behind him, he would have see the startled look on Finn's face as he saw them.

But he didn't. All he could do was try to choke back his tears as he allowed his father to comfort him. It was all too much; their words, the location, the fact that they were up there on stage doing something he had once loved to do. He cried not only for what he no longer had, but also for what he would never attain.

"What's wrong with him?" Blaine asked anxiously, more than slightly alarmed as Kurt's sobs grew in intensity. "Mr. Hummel-"

"I can't say for certain kid," Burt replied gruffly, looking at Kurt's not-quite-official-boyfriend, over the top of his son's head. The genuine concern in his voice had Burt relaxing the last of his defences against the Warbler. It was inevitable, he thought absentmindedly, Blaine had long since become a fixture in his boy's life. He could at least stop pretending to ignore that fact. "All of this," he said with a general wave, "is just too much for him. Come on now kiddo, no need to cry so. I've got you. You're perfectly safe. Calm down now so we can get you home, hmm? We'll stop by the Lima Bean for one of those Panini sandwiches you love so much and then we'll settle you down for a nice long nap okay? Later you can call Blaine because kid, he's quite worried about you."

"M'fine," Kurt said with a sniffle, pulling back and looking up at his dad. "M'kay. Don't wanna go to the doctor, k? I'm fine."

"Sure bud," Burt agreed, "but we do need to get you out of here. Look, here's Blaine's hanky again. Dry your eyes and we'll get going okay?"

"K."

Blaine could only look on in mild bemusement. Kurt seemed much younger than his age at the moment; listening to him speak he would have sworn that Burt was dealing with a ten or eleven year old. The man though did not seem particularly surprised by Kurt's behaviour, so perhaps this was a somewhat regular thing? But then again, now that he thought about it, there were some moment's when Kurt acted similarly to this, although certainly not to this extent. Those slightly morose looks he gave him sometimes when Blaine was teasing him, or the way he rubbed at his eye with his hand fisted whenever he was sleepy or in need of a break from it all. Maybe it was a coping mechanism for stress?

"Don't you need to be getting back to your team?" Burt asked, as Kurt pulled away from him to blow his nose.

"They've been fine without me so far," Blaine said dismissively. "Kurt's more important."

That won him a few more points with the elder Hummel. "Let's go, bud."

"K."

"Can I at least get an O with that K?" Burt asked, teasingly, successfully drawing a watery laugh from his son, before leading him, after a goodbye to Blaine, out of McKinley and back to the safety that was their home.


	8. Chapter 8

Finn woke slowly to the feeling of a warm body snuggled against his side. Blinking down blearily, a crooked smile formed on his face as he found Kurt tucked in beside him, a peaceful expression on his face. Moving without disturbing him was not a possibility; so instead, Finn contented himself with remaining there, looking down at his step-brother as he let his mind mull over matters. He had wanted to talk to Kurt the previous day, but it had simply been impossible. Had circumstances been different, he would have pointed him out to the rest of the New Directions yesterday. He had been shocked to see him there at the show; but whatever elation he had felt faded immediately as he realised that Kurt was sobbing brokenly in Burt's arms with Blaine hovering anxiously besides them. It was at that moment that he truly was grateful to the Dalton student for telling him to back off on harassing Kurt to come; but for whatever reason he had chosen to, and the consequences were not pretty.

By the time he and Carole returned to the house, Kurt was in a drug induced slumber in his room, and, given the amount of medication it had taken to return him into a viable state, it was clear that he would be out of it for the remainder of the day. And so, all Finn could do was help feed him a bit of dinner before allowing him to drift back into his slumber. Yet, here he was the next morning, resting against him peacefully. Why was he here, Finn wondered idly, although he was not upset in the least. Honestly, more often than not, he was the one to sneak into Kurt's room, especially after he had had a particularly difficult night. But this was the first time in a long while since Kurt had actively sought him out. Knowing that it would not wake him, Finn gently caressed Kurt's cheek before he slowly but carefully eased forward until Kurt's head was pillowed in his lap.

He made a shushing sound when Kurt stirred, but after a moment, he calmed once again. If anyone had told him two years ago, hell even five months ago, that he would have McKinley's resident gay slumbering on him in his bed, he would have laughed at them while wondering if it was some sort of slur against his own sexuality. But then again, he had never expected something like what happened in December to occur. He never expected to find his step-brother of just a few days, unconscious and bleeding while still being assaulted; he never expected, while screaming for an ambulance, for Kurt's eyes to briefly open and his pain filled gaze to meet his own before he succumbed again, with a single tear running free.

That was it; in that one moment Finn finally understood everything that Kurt had tried to explain to him – to them all over the past few weeks, and an instinct to protect rose within him so strong that he actually at times found himself competing with Burt over who got to take more care of the slender teenager. In that one moment, Kurt had become one of the most important people in his life – second only to Carole. Kurt became a person he had to protect and to try to make happy once again. But it was no easy task; that day had shattered Kurt; robbed the world of the person he once used to be, and although more and more Finn saw traces of that individual, he knew that he would never be the same.

The Kurt Hummel he had first met was entirely gone, and Finn was not certain he could ever be recovered in any real way. But he would do his best to help the person who was left; a boy dealing with not only a horrific action again him, a new and perhaps permanent disability, but also trying to find a new place in the world when (according to him) all of the doors available to him were now closed. Looking down at him, Finn could not help but remember that first day in the hospital, when Kurt finally found the will to withdraw from his mind and return to the horror that was now his reality.

The following days had been difficult. Dealing with the police, assessing just how badly damaged Kurt was, finding the right combination of drugs to offset the mental issues he now had, finding a suitable physical therapist and enrolling him in a new school… That had been such a chaotic period, he reflected, and through it all Kurt had been mostly unresponsive

It was then that a psychologist had been called in, and though Kurt claimed to hate it, progress had been made subsequently. Dalton had proved to be a miracle in more than one ways. Not only had Kurt found an education system that now actively challenged him, he was in a safe, protected environment where he had friends who could look after him in a way they had failed to. But Finn hadn't been happy with it; not at first. Dalton meant that Kurt was two hours away, in a place where he definitely could not protect him. He had been the strongest advocate for home schooling, but no one's schedule really allowed it, and his doctor strongly recommended social interaction. And so, Dalton was selected, and he had to admit it was good for him, although a part of him recognised it was just another failure on McKinley's part.

Dalton was slowly helping Kurt re-affirm himself. In the weeks he had been there he had started talking more, was considerably more relaxed and even laughed on occasion. Yes it was still a far cry from what he had used to be, but now he did more than sit sullenly around, depressed over the many failures he was now encountering. Dalton, and especially those he had met there had assisted him in slowly embracing his new status; Finn just wished there was something that could be done to help him sing once again. He missed Kurt's voice more than anything; wished that there would be a time when he could bang on his door begging him to stop practicing or at least sing something a little less theatrical. Gods, right about now, he would kill to hear Kurt _hum_ something.

Unbeknownst to him, Kurt stirred, blinking up at him blearily before his memory returned. Slowly he raised his hand to tap his nose, his lips twitching as Finn flinched before looking down at him with wide eyes. "You're awake," he breathed quietly.

"Good morning," he returned in an equally soft tone, making no move to rise. "Thanks for letting me stay."

"Anytime little bro," Finn said sincerely, dropping a hand to cover his forehead. Kurt sighed at that, his eyes drifting close.

For a moment Finn wondered if he was going to sleep once again – his eyes were still somewhat glassy in a way that indicated that he was still under the influence of his medication. However, after a moment he spoke. "I was there yesterday…in McKinley."

"Burt told me," Finn replied, deciding that it would be best to hide the fact that he had seen him.

Kurt tensed slightly before relaxing. "Those songs were for me."

There was not a hint of question in his tone.

"They were," Finn confirmed, watching as Kurt slowly opening his eyes, silently asking him to explain himself. "Look Kurt, the guys…they've been wanting to meet with you for weeks now. No, it's okay, we know that you can't but, it's been difficult. They thought that this would have been the best way, reaching out to you through our best means, and offering one last apology."

"It wasn't your fault though," Kurt said quietly, twisting so that he was on his side, facing away from him.

Finn allowed the movement, knowing that Kurt no longer had the strength to face him. "It is Kurt. We could have stopped them if we had been there. We left you alone…plus we ignored how bad the situation had gotten. Kurt…there were so many bruises on you that weren't from that day… We're to blame for not assisting, for not intervening, for not reporting it to a teacher…for not telling Burt. And then afterwards…Kurt, Mrs. P had her hands full with us afterwards…I think Mercedes still sees her. It wasn't easy to forgive ourselves, and well this was our last way of trying to let everything go while apologising to you one last time. We had the performance filmed if you ever want to see it – we decided to do that once it was clear that you wouldn't come."

"I tried to stay," Kurt admitted. "But it was too hard. I'm sorry, but that place, that room…I couldn't do it Finn. I'm sorry. Daddy took me home, I really couldn't stay, but I-I…"

"Shhh…" Finn comforting, shaking his legs in what he hoped was a soothing manner as he heard a breathy sob from his little brother. "It's okay Kurt. Just calm down for me okay?"

It took several minutes, as Kurt, overcome once more by the emotions his medication could not stamp down, dissolved into tears once again. At one point the bedroom door crept open, and Finn mouthed instructions to his mother who nodded and quickly fetched a glass of water with a tablet dissolved into it. Finn accepted it with a silent thank you, noting that Kurt had not even registered Carole's presence in the room. When his tears had reduced to the occasional hiccup, Finn gently rolled him over and propped him up, offering the glass.

"Drink this for me," he ordered, knowing that asking would do no good with Kurt in his current state. Kurt took the glass, grimacing at the medicine taste before chugging it down at the stern look Finn gave him.

"You're as bad as daddy," he grumbled and Finn barely resisted the urge to pinch his cheek because of his doleful expression.

It was one of the most pressing issues that remained for Kurt, Finn thought as he let him reclaim his former position. His medication often left him feeling extremely vulnerable and helpless, and while that led some adolescents to lash out in response, for Kurt it made him act younger. He was clingier and more dependent on whomever he was in the vicinity of. Burt tended to take the brunt of it, but both Finn and Carole had experienced it as well. An episode could last anywhere from a few hours to days, and at the end of it, Kurt was often churlish and morose for a while before returning to what was now his normal personality. Finn idly wondered how Blaine had reacted to seeing it yesterday, and decided to ask him later on that day when he would undoubtedly call for a next progress check on him.

"It was too much for me," Kurt said, as if that interlude had not occurred. "Not you guys…I really loved it Finn, and please tell everyone I said thank you. But it was too much…McKinley, that room, that stage. I couldn't deal with it so daddy took me out of it. But I really enjoyed it Finn, please believe that."

It was hard too given what he had seen but if Kurt's explanation was to be believed, it was the stress of the environment that had left him in such a dismal state. He could live with that. "I believe you lil dude," he told him sincerely. "And I'm so grateful you came…I'll tell the guys what you said."

"Thanks Finn," he whispered, closing his eyes once again. "I'm sleepy?"

Finn chuckled at the questioning inflection in his tone. It seemed like Kurt really did not want to be alone right now, and he would easily facilitate that. "Go ahead and sleep Kurt. I won't kick you out."

"We'll play video games later?"

"Sure. It's been a while since I've creamed you anyway."

"Douchebag," Kurt grumbled.

"Your favourite douchebag," he countered.

"Yeah," Kurt admitted, before succumbing to a thankfully, peaceful sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

The decision was made the moment Kurt started walking toward Dalton and saw Blaine sitting on the school steps waiting for him. A part of him breathed in relief, glad that, after witnessing him at his worst, Blaine had not run for the hills, dismissing him as a hopeless case. But the other part of him acknowledged that Blaine deserved the truth, the entire truth. Before him was a teenager who had stood by his side these past few months, had helped him in so much in ways he still did not know, all without being fully aware of the reasons behind it all…the reason why Kurt was prone to mood swings, had to miss school so often…had a useless arm that dangled by his side. It was not fair, Kurt decided in that moment. Blaine had more than proven himself; not to tell him would be a sign that Kurt did not trust him, which truly was not the case.

And so, they were here, seated beneath their tree with Blaine looking at him expectantly, that goofy smile firmly in place. He supposed that Blaine had not caught the undertone of seriousness in his tone when he had told him that they needed to talk, but that smile would certainly fade from his face soon enough.

"I don't know how long we'll be alone for actually," Blaine admitted with a rueful look. "We've dropped practice back to once a week, and I overheard Jeff and a few of the others planning to drop in on us."

"That's fine," Kurt said, not at all perturbed by the fact that soon enough their privacy would be invaded by their friends. Actually, he decided, he would wait till they got there. After all, they deserved to know as well. They arrived soon enough, bearing food pilfered from the kitchens. The atmosphere was loud and cheerful, and Kurt decided that perhaps now was not the best time. He should just let them have an afternoon of fun. It would be awkward to interrupt the merriment with his story; he'd just wait for a more opportune time. However, it seemed as if the universe was colluding against him, because the opportunity quickly opened itself to him.

"Man we got to do this more often," Jeff declared, throwing himself backwards against Nick, shooting him an apologetic grin as he knocked his hotdog out of his hand. "I was wondering how we would fill these longggggggg boring afternoons, but I think we'll be fine. Sorry Blaine, I'm afraid your Klaine time is officially gone."

Blaine rolled his eyes at the statement, tossing a potato chip at him before wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him further into his side. "Don't worry Kurt, I'll deal with them later."

"You wouldn't run us, right Kurt?" Jeff asked dolefully. "I'm going to be awfully bored now that my afternoons are wide open. You won't deny me your company, right?"

"Notice how the 'us' turned to 'me'," Wes pointed out, earning him a glare from his friend. "But he does have a point; now that the competition season is over for us, there's no real point for further practice this term. Kurt, your old team really was amazing; I think you'd have enjoyed seeing it."

"Blaine would have to," Nick added.

Blaine glared at him, even as he rubbed soothingly on Kurt's arm. "It's not my fault I had a bad bagel guys. I doubt you all wanted me puking all over you."

"At least he got through the song okay," Wes agreed. "New Directions threw us for a loop though. They completely changed their form for Saturday. That performance was nothing like we saw on Youtube."

"That's because we never performed those kind of songs outside of the choir room," Kurt explained, leaning further into Blaine, "far less in a competition."

Multiple pairs of questioning eyes turned to him, and Kurt realised that this was really the first time he had actually spoken about his former teammates, far less grouped himself in with them.

"Kurt…?" Blaine said, a questioning edge to his tone.

Without a word Blaine had realised what he was about to do, and was giving him the courage and strength to do so. Kurt reached down to squeeze his fingers gratefully before speaking.

"That side of the New Direction doesn't really make it on stage a lot. It's just something we do when someone's got something to say…an apology to make, an angry vent to do or just when something ridiculous happened and you wanted to share the joy. It was just a way to get whatever we were feeling out there in a clean manner. It saved a lot of us trips to Ms Pillsbury's office, that's for sure," he said with a dry laugh as his mind drifted to some of the more…expressive performances. "But no one's ever taken it beyond the choir though. A competition is for entertaining the audience, not to invite them into our group therapy…and that's exactly what they did, because it was the only way they could get the message to me."

Kurt's voice drifted off as he once again heard his friends' voice echoing to him. He would have to Skype them in a group session, he decided. It was only fair. Drawing himself back to the present, he continued, his voice slowly dropping into a soft monotone that held his audience captive.

"It's not their fault…but they keep apologising. No one's responsible for what happened. Well no one besides _them_. They all say that they should have noticed that the bullying was getting worse, but really what could they have done? It's not like someone could have been with me every second of the day. And it's as much my fault. I should have said something long before things got to where it did."

A shudder ran down Kurt's body as he spoke about the numerous locker slams, the accosting in the showers, the number of phones, tablets and other devices lost through his tormentors' actions. "All they saw were the slushies, and I kept it that way…even when things started getting violent; even when he threatened me, I said nothing, did nothing. I mean, I really didn't believe that they would actually hurt me that way. I was so stupid.

"We were supposed to have a choir practice that day, but Mr. Shue cancelled. I had art class the period before so I never got the message. I was in the auditorium, and I decided to warm up while I waited. After all, it's kind of hard to hear yourself once Rachel takes over. I didn't even know when they entered…I still don't know why he had a knife on him. But one moment I was rising through the scales, and the next I was on the ground; I couldn't breathe. He'd kicked me here," he said, pointing to his side. "It took the breath out of me and then he was on top of me, touching me, hurting me.

"And then _he_ came out. I thought he would have stopped but he just helped him beat me; they kicked me, yelled at me and laughed at me. Said that they'd show me once and for all how much my kind didn't deserve to be there; not in McKinley, not in Lima, not anywhere. I screamed and screamed but who was there to hear? My friends weren't there. There was no one to help me as they fractured my ribs. I managed to lash out and that's when…that's when he pulled the knife. I didn't realise then…I should have though. I felt pain, so much pain in my arm and then nothing, absolutely nothing. I thought it was just shock at the time…I didn't realise he'd ruined my arm for good.

"I thought I was dead, I really did. He pulled the knife out of me and raised it…I saw my blood dripping off that blade, but then…I still don't know how, but Finn was there. I heard him yelling and screaming and they got off me, they left. I remember Finn telling me everything would be all right, but it never will be."

Kurt didn't even realise that he had tears slowly dripping down his cheeks, nor that his voice had drifted into silence, leaving an air of depression over those around him. Jeff was clutching Nick while Wes could only stare in shock. Blaine…Blaine could barely contain his rage at the injustice Kurt had suffered. He could not start to process what Kurt had endured, but it all made sense now. Why he refused to sing, why the auditorium, hell the school, posed such difficulties for him. He forced himself to temper down the boiling rage within him, in favour of pulling Kurt completely onto his lap, burying his head beneath his chin as he rocked him.

"I've got you. You're safe now poppet," he murmured.

"Why?"

The whispered question came from Wes who looked as if the world he had known was irrevocably shattered – which it probably was. None of these boys had any real idea (well perhaps save Blaine) of the cruelties that existed beyond their carefully sheltered lives. Briefly Kurt resented the fact that he was the one to break them out of the crystal wall they were living behind, but perhaps it was kinder that it happened now rather than later.

"I'm gay," he said simply, twisting slightly in Blaine's grip so that he could meet Wes' eyes. "I'm a gay boy who sounds like a girl and sang show tunes. I'm different and because of that I didn't deserve to live. They wanted me out of McKinley, out of Lima, and I guess they got their way."

"Please tell me those guys are in jail?" Nick demanded angrily.

"And who are they?" Jeff added.

"Dave Karofsky and his best friend Azimo," he said softly. "They were arrested that night." Kurt choked back a bitter laugh. "They said it was self defence. I'd been sexually harassing them. They'd meant to only stun me a bit – scare me into leaving them alone, but then I grabbed Dave's junk and he stabbed me reflexively. Blaine," he ended with a whimper as his grip tightened painfully.

"I'm sorry poppet," Blaine said, immediately slackening his hold.

"No one really believed them," he continued. "Well some people did, but it didn't matter. A lot of the students came forward, talked about what they saw and heard. Ben Israel actually handed over some tapes he shot of them bullying me. It was enough for them to switch their pleas to guilty. Azimo's in jail for six years I think and Karofsky's there for eight to ten."

"That's all?" Jeff demanded.

"This is Ohio," Kurt said dolefully. "I was honestly surprised they weren't just paroled."

"I'm surprised that you're okay now."

Kurt laughed bitterly once again. "Okay? I'll consider myself okay the day I stop having to see a therapist twice a week and can sleep through a night without medication. I'll be fine the day I stop flinching away from every man taller than me; I'll be okay when I actually figure out what there's left for me to do in life, because right now the things I grew up planning to achieve went out the window the moment they decided that they wanted me dead."

And really, there was no real response that could be made in response to a statement like that.


	10. Epilogue

Kurt smiled as he pulled off his sunglasses, taking his first look at Dalton Academy in a little over two months. He had to admit that it felt like he was coming home, and in a way, he was. Killing the engine to the Navigator, Kurt jumped out of the jeep before slinging his bag over his neck. He paused a moment to straighten his tie, graciously tied for him by Carole before heading up that familiar pathway. He couldn't help the grin that kept spreading on his face with each step he took. It took a few more moments for him to round the bend that brought the main building into view and he chuckled when he saw Blaine sitting there on the steps. He never failed to keep his promises he thought ruefully as he watched his boyfriend come bounding toward him.

Laughing he allowed himself to be lifted and twirled before cupping Blaine's cheek when he was finally put down and kissing him lingeringly. "One would think we did not see each other on Saturday the way that you are acting," Kurt murmured once they pulled apart.

"That was two days ago," Blaine huffed, his eyes sparkling, as he reached to take Kurt's bag from him. "How are you?"

"Perfect now," he said with a happy smile, before arching an eyebrow when Blaine gasped as he took his right hand into his. "What is it?"

"Your hand's trembling," he breathed.

"I told you it's been doing that off and on," Kurt reminded him, even as he noted the way Blaine almost reverently lifted the limb so he could more closely examine the trembling.

"This is a good thing right?" Blaine asked for the umpteenth time.

"A great thing," Kurt corrected, allowing some joy to creep into his tone.

He had been at the benchmark after which it was deemed almost impossible for his limb to naturally recover. And yet, here it was, those distinctive tremors and a feeling of discomfort that would eventually drive Kurt batty with irritation, but for now did nothing more than fascinate him. His nerves were reconnecting, sparking life into the still limp limb, a sign of progress for the future.

"It'll be some months still," Kurt said, cutting off Blaine's question. "But so far Dr Haley is really confident about this. She's a riot, claiming that my body is as much as a rebel as I am. Just as I decided to do the surgery it decided to heal itself."

"I think your body was just giving you the time to heal mentally first," Blaine said softly as he pressed a kiss to Kurt's cheek. "You've done so well these past few months poppet," he praised.

And he had, Blaine thought fondly as they slowly headed toward the school building, Kurt's trembling hand still firmly held in his grip. Kurt had improved in leaps and bounds after that afternoon on the grounds. It was as if it had been the moment of catharsis he had needed in order to put a complete close to his past and finally move on. He had rekindled old friendships, pulled some of his former clothes out of storage, and more importantly to Blaine, had the courage once again to be open with his sexuality outside of the wall of safety provided by Dalton. That day when Kurt had kissed him there and then in that Westerville Mall would always remain with him, he thought.

Kurt was not completely healed. Blaine would not delude himself on that fact. For all that his boyfriend had his good days, there were still the odd periods where Finn would call him to cancel a date on Kurt's behalf or to tell him that it would be useless trying to Skype with him that night because of a setback. But it was to be expected, and, so far, the times between the episodes were lengthening, as well as the intensity of it. Kurt would always have at least one medication on standby for him to take in case of moments of panic, but at least, thus far, his doctor no longer saw the need for the slew of them that left him a drowsy, unresponsive mess. There were only two left, of which only one he still had to take on a regular basis.

"Wes is already nagging me to ensure that you come to Warbler practice," Blaine warned him as they entered the building. "I don't think he'll take no this time around."

"I was planning on going anyway," Kurt responded. "I mean…I'm not ready to sing yet."

"That's up to you poppet," Blaine hurried to reassure him. "For now it's good enough that you're willing to attend. But like always-"

"I'll tell you if it's too much," Kurt finished, butting his head gently against Blaine's. "I know honey. You've said it enough times."

"I just want you to be safe and happy."

"I know Blaine. That's why I love you."

"I love you too," Blaine replied with a slightly goofy smile. He would never grow tired of hearing Kurt say that…and Kurt would never get tired of saying it either.

There were so many things for the two of them to look forward to in the future, and it would not always be smooth sailing. They would face a year apart while Blaine went ahead to university, a long, desperate year that would test but ultimately strengthen their love and commitment to each other. And there would be days when Kurt's recovering arm bothered him so much that he would spend part of his nights awake in tears, seeking comfort from whomever was available while willing himself to remember that this was the pain he had to suffer for a chance of reclaiming his dreams. But through it all they would maintain the faith they had in each other, in themselves and in those they love. For it was that faith and hope that had brought them to the point they were at now, and would lead them undaunted into the future.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading.


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